The Paths to Everlasting Love: A Dark Shadows Reimaging
by Helena Clara Bouchet
Summary: Disclaimer: I own nothing of Dark Shadows, its characters, Dan Curtis Productions, ABC network, and so forth. I only own the characters (Christine, Josephine, Raoul, Chevalier, Henri, etc) that came from my vivid imagination. This my fantasy of what would happen if Barnabas Colins was introduced to another potential wife in the late 1790s. Enjoy my first fan fiction, everyone!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Dark Shadows, its characters, Dan Curtis Productions, ABC network, or any other entity belonging to them. I only own the characters (Christine, Josephine, Raoul, Henri, etc) I created from my vivid imagination. This is my fantasy of what would happen if Barnabas Collins was paired with another potential wife. This is also my first fanfiction and I greatly appreciate everyone who stops by and reads for their entertainment.

The Paths to Everlasting Love: A Dark Shadows Reimaging

Part I

Chapter 1

Christine Marie Elyse Louveaux was unlike many young women of her time. Being the daughter of a long-forgotten, French aristocrat turned Louisiana plantation owner, she was privileged to be bordered and educated at a convent in Ville-Marie, New France (Montreal, Canada) since the age of nine. The only female influences in her life were the nuns, and most importantly, the mulatress Josephine Baptiste, her personal maid, companion and half-sister, whom her father allows her to write. Christine knew only God, her Catholic teachings, humility, and sins that were seen or discussed privately. She didn't know much about life itself, but remembered vaguely the miseries of the slaves her father owned and look of dejection when Josephine was taken from her to be "kept" by one of her father's Creole "gentleman" friends. Her mother, the late Elyse Louveaux, died at childbirth, and Christine was mostly taken care of by Josephine and the older female house slaves. However, from the monthly letters that her father sent her, she was glad to know that Josephine returned to the plantation as a PAID, housekeeper after her "protector" died penniless, meaning that Josephine had to give up her middle class existence in New Orleans to settle with creditors. She has an uncle named Lasalle, but doesn't know much about him since there was bad blood between her father, Raoul, and he, causing the brothers to go their separate ways. Whenever she wrote to her father questions concerning Lasalle, he would never answer them.

Although Raoul had hinted that he wanted Christine to return to Louisiana to marry, Christine had plans of her own. She decided that she would become a nun after her eighteenth birthday so that she may dedicate her life to God, serving the poor, and to secretly atone for the sins of her father. However, she was forced to cease her plans by a fateful visit from her father. In May 1796, Christine was deep in prayer and meditation in the chapel of the convent when one of the nuns informed her that her father was waiting with Mother Superior in the old drawing room. When she entered, she was greeted by Raoul Louveaux, to whom she smiled and curtsied.

"I will leave the both of you to talk," said Mother Superior, quickly exiting the room with the nun and closing the double doors behind them. Raoul approached his teenage daughter, examining her from head to toe.

"_Ma petite_! You look wonderful! How have you been?" he asked.

"I've been well, Papa, _merci_." She replied. "I didn't expect your arrival until next week."

"We had good weather on the ocean, _cherie_," answered Raoul. He stood by the sofa, and gestured to Christine to sit down.

"Christine, I shall be blunt: I'm here to take you home to Louisiana. Your education here is finished."

Fumbling with her rosary, she stared in shock and disappointment at her father. "But Papa," she said, "I don't want to go back to the plantation. I had explained to you in my last letter that I intend to stay and become a nun. I think that it is my godly duty."

"That is out of the question, Christine. Besides, I dismissed this notion of yours to become a nun as childish rubbish. You will not waste your life being cloaked in black and white like an old kitchen maid-"

"Papa! That is disrespectful!"

"Don't interrupt me, girl! You will come back with me and take your place in Creole society so that you may marry and continue the Louveaux lineage."

Christine jumped from the sofa in a huff and stood in front of Raoul. She glared at her father while he challenged hers. "I made my decision, Papa. My place is in the house of God!"

Furious at her insolence, he said, "Your place is wherever I determine, young lady. And your place is in the home. As a gentleman's wife and mother to his children!"

Christine turned from him, her arms crossed, and stifling back hot tears. Her father, feeling sympathy, cooled his temper, and stood behind his only child, placing his hands on her shoulder.

"_Ma petite_, if you had other siblings, I would gladly approve of you joining the convent. Mother Superior informed me of your potential and great intelligence, which came from the Louveaux lineage, of course. If your mother survived childbirth, there would have been more Louveaux children than you can count. But you are my only child. You must do your first and foremost duty in making sure that the Louveaux lineage continue forever."

Sadly, Christine agreed with Raoul. Although she desired more than anything to be a nun, and to live a life of purity and humility, she also knew that there was no one else to continue the family lineage. If she knew more about her uncle, and knew that he married and had children, she would have argued with her father that the lineage was being maintained through Lasalle. It was up to Christine now to choose to disobey her natural position on this earth, or to be a good Catholic girl and "be fruitful and multiply."

"Alright, Papa. I will do my duty to our family…and marry a fine gentleman."

Raoul turned her and hugged her, smiling with satisfaction. "Good, _cherie_! We will leave at the end of the week to give you time to pack, to say good-bye to your peers, and for me to take you shopping. A young woman like you needs the latest in fashion to attract a good husband. I will come back tomorrow afternoon to visit some dress shops. Understood?"

Stifling back her tears, Christine replied, quietly, "_Oui_, Papa_, oui_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After arriving at the docks of New Orleans, Christine and Raoul rode their waiting carriage through the countryside to their home, Delacroix Park, a grand plantation with acres and acres of land that sprouted cotton and other agricultural products. When their carriage pulled up at the great white mansion, Christine noticed with delight a tall, slim mulatress, wearing a black, cotton gown with a white apron and matching kerchief, standing on the porch in anticipation, smiling as bright as the sun's rays.

"Josephine!" exclaimed the young girl, hopping out the carriage with help from a Negro footman, running up the steps to give the maid an ecstatic embrace. Josephine pulled away and examined her mistress.

"Missy! Look at you! You look like a lady traveling abroad!" said Josephine, turning her. Christine definitely looked like a lady, wearing her blue travel gown with a broad hat topped with blue and white plumes. "Welcome home, mademoiselle. You look tired. I'll take you to your room to rest."

Arm in arm, Christine and Josephine headed to Christine's old bedroom, followed by house slaves taking up the trunks of the weary travelers. Josephine helped Christine unpack and organize everything in its place while they discussed Christine's voyage from New France to Louisiana. Everything in Christine's room was the same as she left it, except that there were fresh, lace curtains hanging on the windows, a canopy hanging above the bed, and new sheets and covers on it. Once Christine had refreshed herself and rested, she joined her father for dinner, where in the dining room, an elaborate, crystal chandelier hung above the table and a large portrait of Elyse Louveaux overlooked father and daughter. After the soup was served, Raoul informed Christine that she and he would make visits to certain members of the white Creole society, where she may begin forming social connections and becoming acquainted with eligible, young, rich bachelors. While he rambled off names and traits associated with them, Christine was thinking of a dress to wear to Sunday Mass. She didn't care about the white Creole society or the men they offered. In her mind, they were the people whom she most despised. Slave owners and slave mongers! Rapists and murderers! Indeed! She would never become a part of their circle. Yet, being the daughter of a slave owner, what did that make her?

A week later, as she got ready for bed, she heard a gentle rapping at her door. Knowing her father's heavy-handed knock, Christine knew that it could only be one person:

"Come in, Josephine," she said.

Josephine entered and shut the door behind her. She was carrying fresh linens to place in Christine's dresser drawers.

"_Bon soir_, missy. How are you this fine evening?" she asked, placing folded linens in the drawers.

"I'm not in such a good mood, Josey, considering that I can't do what I inspired to do."

"What do you mean?"

Christine answered, "Remember in the last letter I wrote to you? When I confided to you that I wanted to join the convent?"

"I suppose that Monsieur Raoul didn't approve of your aspirations."

"Of course he didn't," she replied. "I know that it is my duty to get marry and keep the Louveaux family lineage going, but I can't deny that I feel that joining the convent would be better for me. Besides, I don't want to marry."

Josephine sat on the bed next to Christine, where they always had their talks in the past. "Ah, _cher_ie," Josephine said, holding Christine's hand, "I know that you prefer the convent, but unfortunately, you would have to accept your father's decisions. After all, this is a world ran by men. Men have the power and the final say-so in our lives. Therefore, you must comply."

Christine looked up at Josephine, hopeful. "If I can go to a local priest and have him to implore Papa on my behalf-"

"He will say to obey your father's will. You are Raoul Louveaux's daughter and his personal property to do with as he pleases," said Josephine, flatly.

"Just as you were," said Christine.

Josephine cleared her throat. "I was, as you know, but now I am a paid servant to Monsieur Raoul. No longer his slave, but freely paid out of his generosity."

"Because you are also his daughter!"

Josephine immediately got off the bed and retrieved her linen basket to leave. "Mademoiselle, I am his offspring, not his daughter. Yes, he fathered me and kept my _maman_ until her death. But I will never be his daughter."

"Don't call me that! We're not in front of Papa or anyone else." Christine jumped up and stomped in anger. "I hate him for what he did to you, Josey! He traded you, his own daughter, like some common whore!"

"Enough!" Josephine had to regain her composure before speaking again. "I expressly asked you several times in my letters to not mention my past, Christine. I am making atonements by living a life of servitude, and for the last time, you must not connect me to your father. As far as we're concern, I never had a father. I have no one but you, Christine. Christine…I can't even call you by your name in public because I'm a subordinate, a colored subordinate at that. Yet, I promised your _maman_ on her deathbed that I would look after you as best as possible. I wasn't there for most of your life because of Monsieur Raoul, but now I'm going to continue to honor Madame Elyse's dying wish and help you survive as a young woman. First thing: Accept that men, masters, and fathers have control over our existences. If we fight it, we would lose everything. That is, unless we go about it the right way."

Interested, Christine asked, "What do you mean by "the right way"?"

Josephine sat back down on the bed with Christine and replied, "You don't have to show interest in everyone you meet. Be nice, sweet, and respectable, and you will gain their respect. You don't have to sit with every gentleman you see or accept courtship from all of them. If Monsieur Raoul wills you to entertain such gentlemen, do so with grace and dignity. Don't frown, slouch, and most importantly, don't say anything offensive until they had left the house."

Christine nodded. "The second thing?"

"Don't bring up my disgusting past or link me to your father to me or anyone. That's unacceptable, especially since I already explained why."

"But you're not a subordinate to me, despite everything," said Christine. "I love you, Josephine, and I can't deny that to anyone."

"You have to for both of our sakes. And third: since you have a new wardrobe and accessories, you need to have your hair dressed like a young socialite, not a fresh-faced convent girl," stated Josephine.

"And I suspect that you will see to my hair dressing personally," said Christine, caressing her long, black braid.

"That's right. Leave it to me to tend to your appearance," answered Josephine. "Oh, which reminds me, I will return in a moment." With that, Josephine hurried out the room, leaving Christine to wonder.

A few minutes later, a gentle rapping sounded on Christine's door, and Christine called for Josephine to enter. With a broad smile on her face, Josephine brought in an ivory, porcelain box with flower designs on the lid, and sat next to Christine on the bed.

She handed the box to the girl. "Open it," said Josephine.

When Christine opened the box, she found four rings resting in their velvet surface: two of the rings were gold, etched in designs, and the other two had large gemstones resting on gold bands. One was a sapphire and the other a ruby, surrounded by tiny emeralds.

"They're beautiful!" exclaimed Christine.

"They belonged to Madame Elyse. She entrusted them to me before she died. She wanted you to have them. Madame thought that your father would give them to his new wife, if he remarried. A gemmed and plain ring goes on each hand. Your mother use to wear the sapphire on her right hand and the ruby with emeralds on her left. You can wear the etched ones on either hand."

Christine set the box on the table by her bed and hugged her beloved half-sister. "_Merci, cherie_!"

"I have another item that your _maman_ left for you."

"Really? What is it?" asked Christine, releasing Josephine.

"I'll show you when it's time. _Bonne nuit_, _cherie_," said Josephine, leaving the room.

"_Bonne nuit_, _cherie_," replied Christine, turning back the covers.

Over the next several months, Christine was transformed from a fresh-faced, convent girl to a beautiful, sophisticated, enchanting Creole socialite, with Josephine's cosmetic and hair dressing skills to thank. She became acquainted with every member of white Creole society, which included their mothers, daughters, and sons in her family's drawing room. The young men relished Christine's black, curled and ornamented hair and thought that she looked exquisite in her muslin gowns, whether short-sleeved or long. As the lady of the household, Christine welcomed all visitors with a warm smile, hot tea, and warm cookies, engaging in conversations concerning social events, charity works, the weather, politics (which the young men found disconcerting), and religious topics. She was greatly admired by all. Especially the gentlemen taken with her beauty. And most especially Henri Dazencourt.

Henri Dazencourt was tall, lanky, and had a head full of mahogany hair. He wasn't a gentleman, but a ward of Raoul's lawyer, Monsieur Chevalier. He was sent to live with his uncle from the West Indies when his parents died. Every Sunday, Raoul invited Monsieur Chevalier and Henri for dinner since both men were lonely widowers who often spent the day discussing business and the cotton crops. Henri was left to be entertained on the porch or in the drawing room with Christine, but never left unwatched by Josephine. Christine was quite impressed with him since they both despised slavery, the people who profited from the institution, and believed that the social system they live in was not how it should had been. They listened to each other's opinions and respected them. Then they fell in love.

After two months, they wanted to get engaged and be married. However, Raoul would not give his consent and told both of them that their "love" was an infatuation that would eventually end before the year was out. Besides, her father wanted her to marry a Creole gentleman, not a penniless clerk who could never offer the proper life that a former aristocrat's daughter ought to have. Monsieur Chevalier wanted Henri to follow in his footsteps to practice law. Yet, he gave his consent for Henri to keep company with Christine as long as Raoul approved. Although Josephine was loyal to Christine, she secretly agreed with Raoul that Henri would not be the best choice for the young lady, and would also make sure that their infatuation did not result in an elopement. Therefore, she became an imposing shadow upon the young and inexperienced couple, making them aware of her unrelenting presence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

On November 4, 1796, Raoul gave Christine a party for her seventeenth birthday. He invited the elite of their social circle (including government officials) to the celebration, making it one of the most distinguished events held at Delacroix Park since the ones hosted by Elyse Louveaux. Because this was the first party she hosted, Christine and Josephine agreed that the young lady had to look her absolute best. With Josephine's assistance and guidance, Christine was adorned in her mother's rings (which she wore constantly except to bed), a royal blue ball gown trimmed in gold that belonged to her mother (Josephine's "surprise" for her), and her hair pinned with matching blue and gold roses. Two weeks before her birthday, Raoul commissioned a portrait to be painted of his daughter, and Christine came up with the creative idea to model herself from her mother's portrait. This pleased Raoul so much that he hung the portrait in the ball room where the party was held, and would later hang it in the drawing room.

The birthday celebration was filled with music, dancing, rich foods, a delectable cake, plenty of champagne and punch, and a harpsichord mini-concert, given by the hostess herself, making this party a success. The party's atmosphere was completed by the presence of Raoul's boyhood friend, Andre DuPres, who owned a plantation in Martinique. The Louveauxs were quite pleased with Monsieur DuPres' visit, especially since they have not seen each other since Christine was eight years old. Christine remembered "Uncle Andre" with fond memories from his and his daughter's, Josette, visit to their home one Christmas. Although Christine and Josette were not as close as their fathers, Christine was always happy to hear about the DuPres family's well-being. When she lived at the convent, her father wrote to her of Josette's marriage into a prominent New England family who owned a shipping business. Christine's only response was that she hoped that Josette was happy with her new husband. She adored Andre, who used to send her little presents from Martinique, even to the convent via her father, and who had substituted for her estranged Uncle Lasalle. Despite her adoration for Andre, she despised him for owning slaves as her father, but still treated him with the same respect as Raoul. She even waltzed with him before accepting the invitations of her male guests, including Henri Dazencourt, who bought her a lace shawl for her birthday.

As the party progressed, Andre DuPres noticed his friend's temperament as Raoul observed his daughter dancing with Henri. Andre maneuvered through the ballroom as best as possible, due to his weight, until he reached Raoul. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"_Mon ami_, is there something wrong?" asked Andre.

Raoul continued to glare at the elated dancers. "I don't like this at all, Andre."

"Don't like what?"

"The image of my daughter being with that penniless clerk," Raoul answered, low enough so that none would take notice.

"Don't talk about it now, _mon ami_. Wait until after the celebration has ended. After all, you don't want to spoil your only daughter's triumphant evening, do you?"

Raoul replied softly no.

"Very well. We'll discuss this issue later. For now, let's have some more champagne," suggested Andre, maneuvering through the crowd again, followed by Raoul.

The birthday celebration ended after ten o'clock that night. Everyone had left, including Henri and his uncle, whom Raoul was glad to see leave. Christine retired to her room after wishing Raoul and Andre a good-night, and Josephine helped the house slaves clean the ballroom and perform late-night kitchen work. Yet, Raoul Louveaux and Andre DuPres took a stroll in the night air, smoking cigars and talking of the party.

"Raoul, I noticed that you do not approve of Christine's association with young Dazencourt," said Andre.

"Isn't it obvious why?" asked Raoul. "When a dreamer like him pursues my daughter for marriage, but won't improve his lot in life by not going to the university to study law, I shudder at what kind of life my daughter could have. I won't abide by this, Andre. I told that ruffian exactly what I thought of him, and furthermore, I told him that my daughter would not be impoverished because she thinks that she is in love with him. Love? In our day, love came later. To have mutual respect for one another and common goals were reasons to marry. Most importantly, we married to increase our family's fortunes and to continue our blood lineage. I would rather that she married a planter's son, but she won't have anything to do with a man who own slaves or deal in slavery. She developed this notion from her Mother Superior that slavery is evil and the like. Nonsense! It is our way of life and she would have to learn to accept it."

"I take it that she doesn't understand how vital slavery and the slave trade are to our livelihood and hers," deduced Andre. "Did you explain it to her?"

"I tried, but she is as stubborn as a mule."

"Her mother, God rests her soul, appreciated and accepted our way of life. But then again, Christine is a Louveaux, for all that entails. And though I do appreciate the Louveaux traits in her, I don't appreciate her willfulness to not see things as we do. However, I want her to marry a proper gentleman, not a law clerk! But she won't consider any of the young men here, and the young men are turned away because she opposed their livelihood."

"I am sorry for your troubles, Raoul, but may I make a suggestion?" asked Andre, sympathetic.

"I am open to any suggestion that would keep Christine from ruining her life with Dazencourt," said Raoul, drawing on his cigar.

"You said that Christine would not marry anyone who owned slaves or dealt in slavery, right?"

"_Oui_," answered Raoul.

"Then I believe that I have the perfect gentleman in mind."

Raoul raised an eyebrow. "Really? You know someone who could by perfect for my Christine?"

"I believe I do," Andre said, dumping the ashes from his cigar. "One of my kinsmen from the Collins family."

"The Collins family? Josette's husband's family? They have an available bachelor?"

"Yes, they do. As a matter of fact, I told you about this particular gentleman. Do you recall the circumstances involving Josette's previous marital arrangement?"

"I can't remember the man's name to whom she was engaged before she shamelessly eloped with his uncle, but I recall the situation in one of your letters," said Raoul.

Andre bristled a little from his friend's comment about his daughter, but he let it go. "I will admit that it was a scandal for my family, but everything is well now. The family has accepted the unexpected union , as Natalie and I had. That is, except for her former betrothed, Barnabas Collins."

"Ah, I see! The situation must be awkward for the gentleman. Is he causing trouble for Josette and her husband?"

"Yes, he is, and it's starting to get out of hand. Josette wrote to me that Barnabas keeps imploring her to leave Jeremiah and run away with him. He insists that her marriage to his uncle was a mistake that she couldn't control on her own will."

"'On her own will'?"

"It's a long story, Raoul, but Barnabas' father, Joshua Collins, is on the verge of disowning his only son for his constant harassments. Jeremiah is fed up to the bone with this situation! I pondered the dilemma and remembered in our spring correspondences that you were planning to bring Christine home from the convent-"

Raoul stopped in his tracks. Andre stopped as well, sensing that his friend was about to become riled.

"Are you suggesting that my daughter be some sort of consolation prize to your daughter's former fiancé? Are you mad?!"

"At least listen to the benefits of such a match-"

"No! Absolutely not! Even you said that he is still obsessed with Josette. If I give this man my daughter, he would surely abandon and humiliate her and any children she bears. The Louveauxs never took kindly to humiliation, Andre! Not even Christine! We are a proud, dignified, and often, vindictive family. And we would never stop being so. Ever!"

"I understand, _mon ami_, but listen: Barnabas is a highly intelligent and sensible man. He's well-educated, very proper, more or less dignified as of late, and stands to inherit a shipping empire. That is, if the proper wife could be found to take his attentions off Josette."

"Why can't he find a wife of his own by his father's prodding?" asked Raoul, still incensed.

"Barnabas is not interested in finding a wife amongst those boring women in New England. He's attracted to the exotic and beautiful. In other words, a young French or Creole girl would suit him. Furthermore, Christine is convent-educated. She knows her place and is resigned to her duties as a good Catholic to marry and have children. Now, the family is not Catholic, but they accepted Josette. In addition, Christine is very beautiful, a trait that would draw Barnabas to pursue her like buried, Caribbean treasure. Also, he is opposed to slavery, making him even tolerable to her."

"Do his family's ships transport slaves?"

"Of course the Collins' ships do, but if Barnabas was in charge, he would end his dealings with that business, even if legal threats were made," assured Andre.

Raoul tossed away his finished cigar. "I don't know about this, Andre. For one thing, Christine still wishes to become a nun if she can't have Henri Dazencourt. We still have disputes about the matter, and recently, she tried to bargain that if she was allowed to marry Dazencourt, she will eschew her desire to be a nun."

"Obviously you still said no, Raoul."

"Of course I did. I warned her that if she was to get the bright idea to elope with the boy, I will make sure that he doesn't get work in all of Louisiana. They will beg on the streets before I give her to a clerk!"

Andre patted Raoul on his shoulder to calm him. "I understand, Raoul. The other thing?"

"This Barnabas Collins. She may or may not take to him since his family's business transport slaves on their ships, but he may not take to Christine either. She has a mind of her own and won't easily submit to the idea that she would be a "consolation prize" to him or any man. She will rebel against him, making him more determined to pursue Josette."

Andre shrugged. "I know that the factors in this match could lead to disaster, but it could also work if both of them give each other a chance."

Raoul thought for a moment. The match could be hell for both of them, but could also turn for the good. Christine could be reasonable once she sees for herself that this situation could be beneficial for not only the cotton plantation, but for her as well. She has a gracious dowry that would attract the Collins family, and she would someday be the mistress of a home financed by a shipping empire. What more could he want for his only daughter? Yet, what if Barnabas Collins abandons Christine and their future children? What if the man left them destitute? Raoul knew that he would have to take cautious measures to insuring that his daughter and her children would be maintained. Why should he subject his daughter to possible poverty to a wayward, dejected suitor? Henri was one issue, but this man was another.

"Alright, Andre. I'll consider Barnabas Collins as a possible suitor for Christine. Let's go to my study and draft letters of introductions to Joshua Collins, but on one condition."

"Yes?" asked Andre, tossing his cigar away.

"Christine is not to know anything about this man's connection to your daughter except for the fact that she is married to his uncle. She will be repulsed by the idea of considering him for a husband if she knew of the scandal. I never told her about it when she was in Ville-Marie, and as far as she is concerned, Josette always had the intention of marrying Jeremiah Collins. I will explain all of this to Joshua Collins in my letter."

Andre nodded in agreement. "Very well, _mon ami_. Let's get started while we are motivated to perform the task at hand. One more thing: did you tell me earlier that your contracts with your currents ships were expiring?"

"_Oui_, why?" he asked.

"You could also make a business arrangement with Joshua Collins, concerning the transport of your cotton and other agricultural goods. It would be a nice incentive if things go wrong between Barnabas and Christine, and I'm sure that Joshua would be inclined to bargain a reasonable price because of my familial attachment through Josette's marriage."

Raoul nodded. "Why not? At least something good could come out of it if the first enterprise fails. Let's draft those letters, _mon ami_," said Raoul, walking with his life-long friend back to the house.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

By the time Easter came to the Louveaux household, there was more or less a peaceful and solemn reverence for the holiday. Father and daughter Louveaux argued constantly about the soon arrival of Joshua and Barnabas Collins and one of their lawyers in two weeks' time. Christine was told that not only were the men to discuss a business arrangement concerning Louveaux agricultural products being transferred by the Collins' ships, but also the possible marital arrangement between their children.

"No! I will not do this, Papa! I will not sit around a bunch of strangers who would examine me like cattle to be bargained over for family fortunes!"

"You will if I tell you, Christine Louveaux! Barnabas Collins is a proper gentleman, from a respectable family and business empire, who don't own slaves, a plantation, or anything else, that deals with slavery."

The house slaves and Josephine were peeping from rooms and corners, listening to the battle upstairs in the young woman's bedroom.

"He still has a part of it by his ships transporting slaves!" retorted Christine.

"His father has ships that transport slaves! From what I was informed, Barnabas Collins himself doesn't agree with the slave trade, and when he inherits his family business, he would put an end to those contracts," said Raoul, straining his voice.

"Be that as it may, Papa. I won't meet with him or his father or his lawyer."

"Yes, you will! You will be the proper young hostess to them, or so help me, I'll send you back to the convent! What am I saying?! That's what you want anyway. I'll figure out what else to do with you if you embarrass me in front of our guests. But rests assure that Dazencourt or the convent would not be your options!"

He stomped down the stairs. The house slaves went back to their work as if they were not interested in what took place moments ago.

"Josephine! Josephine!" he yelled.

Quickly, Josephine came from around the corner from the kitchen and curtsied before Raoul.

"_Oui_, monsieur?" she asked, meekly.

Raoul pointed upstairs, panting in anger. "You go upstairs to that horrid child and talk some sense into her. Make her understand her place and duty to this family. NOW!" He stormed into his study and slammed the door.

Being the reluctant referee, Josephine treaded the stairs to "educate" her mistress/half-sister on a woman's role in Christine's social world. Although it would had seemed unusual for a colored servant to take this role, Raoul allowed Josephine to advised Christine since Josephine was the only female to whom she would listen. Once Josephine arrived at the door, she familiarly rapped at the door.

"Come in, Josephine!" called Christine, bitterly.

Josephine entered, finding Christine facing her window in that stubborn, angry position that featured Christine with her arms folded and pouting, too proud to cry in front of her foes.

Josephine closed the door and walked up to her. Christine turned to Josephine and embraced her, allowing her tears to finally flow.

"There, there, missy. Don't cry," comforted Josephine. "Your father meant well, despite what he said. He only wants what is best for you and this Barnabas Collins seems like a good catch."

Christine looked up at Josephine, who was a foot taller than the girl. Her face was distorted by her emotions. "What does he know about what is best for me, Josey? He doesn't care about my dreams, only that I be married off to a middle-aged man who takes in blood money!"

"Now, now, Christine, your father is not marrying you off to this man. He only wants you to talk to the gentleman and to entertain his father and lawyer like the good hostess you were taught to be. Besides, your father will not marry you to anyone whom he doesn't approve of first and foremost."

"But why must they stay for two months?"

"Business agreements take time to negotiate, _cherie_. Also, it would give you and Monsieur Barnabas time to get to know one another. Even if you two do not get engaged, you may own this plantation one day and you would need business connections to continue your livelihood."

"I would never continue this business!" gasped Christine, breaking from Josephine's embrace. She plopped herself on her bed, arms folded, followed by Josephine, who sat down next to her, preparing for her own battle of wills.

"I will prostitute myself first before I make anyone bend their backs without wages!"

"Hush up!" said Josephine, firmly. "Don't ever let me hear you talk that way again. Ever! You don't have any idea what it's like to prostitute yourself and you don't want to know. I told you before that in this world of ours, we women have no choice but to submit to our fathers, husbands, and masters for our own good and the good of our households. Now and days, mind you, men and women have the choice, more or less, to marry for love, but you, _ma amour_, aren't being forced to say "I do" just yet. You have your freedom to refuse the gentleman, even if Monsieur Raoul favors him. But I warn you to not rebel against your father in this manner. If you keep fighting him, he may make you marry Monsieur Barnabas on the spot, without your input. If you cooperate, your father will be lenient to your wishes. Understand?"

Christine nodded, but had to ask the question on her mind. "What about you, Josephine? Where do you fit in our world?"

Josephine sighed, reluctant to answer the question. "_Moi_? I hardly fit anywhere. I am stuck between servitude and my own independence."

"What about when you were a-?"

"I told you not to bring up my past, Christine."

"I know, but I'm only curious about how your world is really different from mine. Please tell me."

Josephine relented and, with downcast eyes, answered, "I was…a kept woman since I was seventeen. You were six years old at the time and had no idea what was taking place. I was free to do as I wished in my cottage in the city, as long as I never took it upon myself to go to Bastide's home or to contact his wife and children. With that same freedom, I sought one of the respectable _femmes de colour_ to teach me to read and write. My place was with my peers, women like me, in the _Gen de colour_ community. Yet, Monsieur Raoul added money to my purse every now and again on special occasions and holidays, but I solely depended on my "keeper". However, I have a talent for dressmaking, as you know, and asked Bastide to finance me a seamstress shop for my own kind. He agreed, but died soon after he made his promise. Of course, the promise would have come to naught since he owed debts to his creditors, and I was left with nothing. Your father rescued me from complete destitution by allowing me to work as his housekeeper for my wages. However, I don't intend to work here for long. He promised me a seamstress shop after you married.

"Is that why you're telling me to be compliant? To have a dress shop while I suffer?" demanded Christine.

Josephine, disappointed at her half-sister's accusation, headed to the door to leave. "Now you think of me as a traitor? An opportunist? Then why am I here? I'll take my leave now."

Christine jumped up to stop her. "No, no, Josey! Please don't go. I didn't mean to insinuate your disloyalty, but I have to know."

Josephine returned to Christine's side and sat down with her. "No, _cherie_. I'm not rushing you to any man's arms for a "dress shop," as you say. I will stay with you for the rest of my life if you need me to do so. But suppose you marry Monsieur Barnabas and move away from Louisiana. I won't have a reason to stay here in Delacroix Park. I came here mainly for you since I knew that your father would bring you back. You needed my guidance, Christine. When you leave, you'll be alone. I see it as my duty to make sure that you're prepared for that life."

Christine, relieved, said, "Forgive my assumption, Josephine."

"You're forgiven, missy," replied Josephine, smiling.

"I should have never doubted you. But, if I should find Monsieur Barnabas agreeable enough to marry, not to say I would, but if I do, would you come with me to New England? If Monsieur Barnabas seeks to have me, you would have to come, too. Two for the price of one. You will come with me, as my paid maid or owner of a dress shop there, or I will not marry him. What do you think?"

Josephine thought for a moment and answered, "Only if Monsieur Barnabas agrees. _If_ you decide to marry him, that is."

"Good. I won't bring it up to Papa until I decide about Monsieur Barnabas Collins."

"Alright. I'll leave you alone now to think about everything I advised you about before dinner. I want you to pray and repent for your early impertinence, and ask your father for his forgiveness. Tell him that you will be an obedient daughter to him and will be a respectable hostess to the Collinses and their lawyer when they arrive. Don't worry about our future guests, _cherie_. I'm sure that everything will turn out for the best. Besides, you'll never know; Monsieur Barnabas Collins may actually be a handsome and decent gentleman. Keep your mind on that thought as well."

After she said that, Josephine winked and left the room.

Christine took to heart what Josephine said concerning the visitors and her "role" as a woman in her world. Also, she wondered how Monsieur Barnabas would look and be once he arrived. Would he really be handsome and kind? Would his character outmatch Henri's? Henri. Oh, Henri! Poor Henri. She felt as if she had betrayed him although there was no future between them. How could she explain to him that she might belong to someone else? Yet, this might be the incentive that he needs to be a successful lawyer so that they could be together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

On the evening before Easter, on a cool night in Collinsport, located in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Barnabas Collins was summoned to The Great House of Collinwood by his father, Joshua. From the urgency of the message, Barnabas knew that it was something serious. He hoped that it was a life-and-death situation and nothing pertaining to Jeremiah complaining about how he looked at or spoke to Josette. How could Jeremiah expect him to forget the woman who would have become his wife? How could he resist her auburn hair, her smooth, porcelain skin, and shining brown, acrylic eyes? She should have been his wife, not Jeremiah's. And one day, he hoped that she'll realize her mistake and come back to him.

"Come in," called Joshua, tired and gruff. He was behind his desk in the study, going over several sheets of paper when his son entered and laid his wolf-head cane against a nearby chair. He removed his cloak and draped it over the chair in front of the desk.

"You summoned me, Father?" asked Barnabas, standing before Joshua.

"Yes, Barnabas. Sit down," said Joshua.

Barnabas did what he was told. "I assumed that this is a life-and-death situation."

"Not entirely, but it is urgent that we speak now," replied Joshua.

Barnabas sighed in exasperation. "Father, if this is about Jeremiah manufacturing a complaint about my association with Josette, then I will take my leave."

Barnabas was rising from the chair when Joshua slammed his fist against the mahogany desktop.

"I said sit!" demanded Joshua. Barnabas sat back down and readied himself for another lecture.

"Jeremiah told me that you are now visiting his wife when he is away, and still trying to convince her to run away with you," stated Joshua flatly.

Barnabas refused to address the accusation. "I am free to visit Josette, aren't I? After all, she is my aunt."

"You're not free to do so if you're trying to destroy our family with this nonsense! As for the fact that Josette is indeed your aunt, you seem to not respect her as such. Instead, you see her as your bride, which she is no longer and is not."

"She would have been if Angelique did not get involved!"

"Well, Angelique did because of your uncontrollable desire for the flesh! You fornicated with Josette's servant, who happened to be a witch, and discarded her, leading her to use her witchcraft on our family. She even took her rage out on your poor sister, God rest her soul."

Barnabas looked down in shame. If he knew that his sister Sarah would die from his actions, he would have never got involved with Angelique.

"In addition, she caused Jeremiah and Josette to elope, which brought humiliation to her family and this riff between you and Jeremiah. However, they are bound by holy matrimony and that is how they shall stay."

"Are you finished?" asked Barnabas, impatient.

"No, I am not, thank you! This feud between you and Jeremiah, and your constant pursuance of Josette stops _now_," said Joshua, emphasizing the last word.

"How's that?" asked Barnabas, haughtily.

Joshua ruffled through the papers on his desk. "After Easter, Barnabas, you and I are going to New Orleans, Louisiana for two months for a business prospect. Eric Dennison is coming with us to handle the legal negotiations."

"What legal negotiations, and why should we stay for two months in New Orleans?"

"Not New Orleans, per se, but a cotton plantation outside of the city called Delacroix Park. It's owned by a gentleman named Monsieur Raoul Louveaux, and according to these letters I received since the end of last year, he is a very prosperous and respectable planter. His contracts are expiring with his regular exporters, and Andre DuPres recommended him to us."

"How does Andre know this gentleman?" asked Barnabas, interested.

"Well, as it turns out, Monsieur Louveaux and Andre are longtime friends. Monsieur Louveaux happens to be the son of a French aristocrat. Unfortunately, his family went bankrupt in Europe, and Louveaux tried his hand in agriculture and mercantile, and eventually, became the owner of his own plantation in Louisiana."

"I'm sure that you are ecstatic about gaining that business prospect, Father," said Barnabas.

"You should be ecstatic as well, son. Considering that the family business would be yours…hopefully," said Joshua, looking down at the letters.

Barnabas sat up in his chair. "What do you mean by that?"

"As much as I hate to say this, you being my only heir and all, but if I have to, I will disinherit you for your constant interference in Jeremiah and Josette's marriage."

Barnabas jumped up from his seat, glaring at his father. "You mean you will disinherit me for the injustice that was done to me?"

Joshua jumped from his seat, glaring back. " You brought this on yourself, Barnabas, by getting involved with a crazed and malevolent servant girl! And if you force my hand, I will do so, and bequeath everything to Jeremiah. Unless you agree to the terms I set for you."

"What terms?" asked an incensed Barnabas.

"I will not disinherit you if you agree to find a new prospective bride and marry her within the year."

"What?! You expect me to pick some New England, dowdy-"

"If you must! That is, unless you can't succeed with the one I present as your first option."

Barnabas' eyes narrowed. "First option?"

Joshua nodded. "Yes. Monsieur Louveaux has a daughter. She is seventeen years of age, convent-educated, not that it matters to me, well-mannered, highly intelligent, intuitive, knows her place and obligations as a young, marriageable lady…"

"And no doubt a dowdy, overzealous, bore!" said Barnabas, interrupting Joshua.

"You won't know that until you meet her and decide for yourself. Monsieur Louveaux wrote that his daughter is quite different from her peers. She's not flighty, has a level head, and is broad-minded. She relishes literature of all types, for some reason, plays the harpsichord magnificently, and is as stubborn as a mule, but obedient to her father's will. Once you examine the young lady for yourself, you could be the judge."

Barnabas scoffed at his father's words. "She's probably not as charming or as beautiful as Josette. And a shrew like Abigail, no doubt."

"That doesn't matter! You will come with me in two weeks to Louisiana. You will see this girl and examine her to see if she could be a potential wife to you. While I handle the business matter, you will see to it that you get acquainted with her. If you object, you can pack your belongings and leave this estate and Collinsport for good. Tonight!"

Barnabas sighed in defeat. Although he hated to give up his pursuit of Josette, he did not want to relinquish his inheritance to Jeremiah.

"Very well, Father. I will go with you and meet this girl. But what if she doesn't respond to my courtship?"

"Then we will find others, but as long as you find a bride before the year is out…or else."

Barnabas nodded, resigned to his new task. "What is her name?"

"Her full name is Christine Marie Elyse Louveaux. If her family was still prominent in France, she would have been a duchess. Here are the letters from Monsieur Louveaux. Read them for yourself about the young lady. Now you are dismissed."

Joshua Collins sat down at his desk and opened a ledger to examine. Father and son said nothing as Barnabas left and Joshua studied the pages before him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Two weeks later, on a beautiful Wednesday morning, the house was bustling with house slaves making last-minute preparations for the Collins' arrival. Raoul ordered Josephine to attend to Christine, making sure that his daughter looked her best for their guests and was lectured, for the last time, on her behavior.

"I think…the pink gown with the blue trimmings. The one I made for you after New Year's. And I will put pink and blue flowers in your hair," said Josephine, thoughtfully. "Come to the vanity, _cherie_, and I'll do your hair now."

While Josephine put the finishing touches to Christine's dark tresses, the young woman's mirror image showed concern.

"What is it, missy?" asked Josephine. "Nervous?"

"Do you think that Monsieur Barnabas and I would like each other?" asked Christine. "Not to say that I would take an immediate interest, but—you know..."

"I think that he would be entranced by your mind and beauty, _cherie_," answered Josephine. "Mainly, your beauty."

"I rather that he appreciates my mind more than my looks. There's nothing worse than being unjustly thought of as beautiful and gullible."

Josephine said, "I agree with you, _cherie_. Now, you're all set for their arrival. I got to make sure that everything is in order in the house. You know how your father trusts me to look behind everyone's work. Put your dress on, careful to not ruin your hair, and wait in the drawing room. Marcel will be there at your beck and call if you need anything. _Oui_?"

"_Oui_," replied Christine, beaming.

"There! Keep that smile on your face. You're going to need it." Josephine winked and left.

Christine sat in the drawing room for a half an hour after the guests were supposed to already arrive. This irritated her immensely because Christine expected promptness from anyone who was visiting Delacroix Park, being a prompt person herself. The tea was cooling and the cookies were hardening. She thought about Barnabas Collins and the possibility that she may marry him. She still doubted that she would, but she had to prepare for the possibilities. When Henri escorts her to Confession tomorrow, she will have to explain the matter to him, and urgently make him understand that he may lose her if he doesn't consider the law profession or another promising one. Frustrated with the guests' tardiness and her thoughts, Christine picked up the tea and cookie tray and told Marcel, the butler, that she was going to the kitchen for a new pot of tea. Marcel would have handled the matter himself, but knowing his mistress, he thought better to not get in her way.

Ten minutes later, Christine became aware of rushing footsteps and conversations, led by her father, welcoming their late guests to Delacroix Park. As soon as Matilda, the kitchen maid, put the pot of fresh hot tea on the tray with the cookies, Christine carefully hurried to the drawing room. Marcel, standing outside the drawing room to give his master and the guests' privacy, opened the door for her. He was going to announce her, but she silenced him, telling him to close the door behind her. Seeing that the men's backs were turned to her at the empty fireplace, and that they were engrossed in conversation, she waited for them to pause before she announced her presence.

When she sat the tray on the small table, surrounded by the sofa and three chairs, one of the men, who had dark, brown hair and a rich, velvety voice, said, "Is that your late wife, Monsieur Louveaux?"

Raoul was going to answer in the negative, but the man interrupted him. "She was a very beautiful woman. Was this painted before or after your marriage to her?"

Before Raoul could answer, Christine replied, "Actually, monsieur, that is _my_ portrait."

Her voice made the men take notice of her presence. The dark-haired gentleman's, whom Christine guessed to be Barnabas Collins, eyes illuminated at the sight of this young woman, whom he himself was reluctant to meet.

Christine continued to explain, walking towards the men. "This portrait was painted two weeks before my birthday last November. Papa wouldn't let me see it until it was unveiled at my birthday celebration. I decided that it would be a tribute to my late mother from whose portrait I modeled myself."

Raoul received his daughter's hand and held it. "Ah, _ma petite_! We were expecting you to be already here." He was pleased that Josephine worked her "magic" in making Christine the belle of the drawing room.

"I apologize, Papa, but I had to get a fresh pot of tea. You know how I detest cold tea."

"So do I. You did well," said Raoul, turning to their newly-arrived guests and bringing his daughter closer to them.

"Gentlemen, this is my daughter, my most prized pearl, Mademoiselle Christine Louveaux. Christine, this is Monsieur Joshua Collins, his lawyer, Monsieur Eric Dennison, and lastly-"

"Barnabas Collins," interrupted Barnabas, taking Christine's hand in his. He kissed it, lingering as long as he dared, and staring at her with his dark, incomprehensible eyes. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

The two elderly guests looked at each other, knowing that Barnabas did not look forward to meeting Christine at all. Christine, put off by Barnabas' approach, felt discomforted by the warm sensation that traveled throughout her body. She never felt that way when Henri would innocently kiss her on her cheek.

"Likewise," said Christine, half insincere. She hurriedly took her hand from him and greeted the other guests. "I am honored to welcome you all to Delacroix Park. Please, sit and have some tea and cookies." She put out her arm to show them their seats. While she and her father sat on the sofa, the men sat in the chairs, and Barnabas took the chair that was placed to Christine's left, slightly annoying her.

During that entire afternoon, Christine consumed tea and cookies while listening to the men talk of ships, fisheries, having business relationships with international merchants and clients, each other's businesses, and prospective terms in their future business dealings. She wished that she didn't have to be in the room. She wanted to be excused to her private parlor to play her harpsichord or to go to her father's library to browse his books. However, she resigned to just sit on the sofa, serve the refreshments, more or less listen to the men's conversations, and every now and then, nod and smile. Yet, she was distracted by Barnabas' constant attention to her when he wasn't speaking to the others or when he wasn't spoken to himself. Even when she side-glanced his way or asked if he cared for more refreshments, he still watched her. Despite how much he annoyed her, she had to admit to herself that he wasn't a bad-looking man. She was attracted to his large, pale hands, in which he wore a black opal ring on his right hand. There was something about his hand that made her warm sensation escalate.

"Christine, _ma petite_, why don't you amuse yourself before dinner? I want to speak to our guests privately," said Raoul.

"_Ou_i, Papa. _Excusez-moi_, gentlemen," said Christine, rising from the sofa. The men rose as expected, but Barnabas kissed her hand again, and again, she briskly took it away. Christine left quickly, feeling Barnabas' eyes upon her.

Raoul rose from the sofa and stood by the mantle where his daughter's portrait hung above it.

"Now, gentlemen," he said, "we can discuss the real matter of your visit. Monsieur Joshua Collins and I had been corresponding since November of last year, concerning marriage between my daughter and his son, Barnabas Collins." He directed his attention to Barnabas. "I noticed, monsieur, that you were quite smitten with Christine. You couldn't keep your eyes off her."

Barnabas smiled shyly and replied, "Well, Monsieur Louveaux, your daughter is uncommonly beautiful, but a little withdrawn."

Joshua said, "With all due respect, I must agree, Monsieur Louveaux. The young lady was cold to my son. I thought that she would show more enthusiasm towards a prospective suitor like Barnabas."

"Monsieur Collins, as I had explained in my letter, Christine is willful and determined to follow her own mind. However, if Monsieur Barnabas would show himself to her as a friend, without giving her the impression that he is ready to steal her away in the night and devour her, she would let down her guards. Appeal to her intellect, and her faith, and she will relent."

"I am not a religious man, Monsieur Louveaux, and neither is my father," replied Barnabas.

"I am not requesting that you attend Mass with her, monsieur. I am advising that you sympathize with the martyred saints or something to that effect. Also, she likes literature and discussing them. And music! She plays the harpsichord wonderfully. I'm surprised that she remembered the basic steps. After all, I had her to start her lessons when she was seven years old. I sent her to the convent in New France when she was nine, and several years later, she came back and started playing again. She did have a short term instructor for a while, but we found later that she was accomplished. Have her to play for you, Monsieur Barnabas. I guarantee that you'll love her playing."

Barnabas nodded, looking forward to the prospect of a "private" concert.

Raoul continued. "Also, your father had informed you that I am acquainted with Andre DuPres and his family, and have knowledge of what took place two years ago, no?"

"Yes, sir," replied Barnabas, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Good. Let me remind you all of the seriousness that I'm taking this whole affair. When Andre DuPres first brought this proposal to me, I was completely against it. Believe me, I am traditional in my way and don't believe that two people don't have to be in love to be married, but I care about my daughter's welfare. I don't want her to ever know about that scandal. We Louveauxs are a very proud family, and we loathe humiliation _greatly_. Christine is no exception. I will do whatever is necessary to protect my daughter and her interests, as well as any children that she may bring in the world. Monsieur Joshua approved of Christine's dowry, which will add to the Collins' family fortune. However, I have plans to ensure that Christine would get a fair treatment from your household should Monsieur Barnabas renege on his vows to my daughter."

"And what are those plans, sir?" asked Mr. Dennison.

"You'll find out tomorrow when we visit my lawyer's office," replied Raoul. "Anyway, Monsieur Barnabas has two months to court my daughter. If he succeeds, fine. If not, that's fine as well. And Christine will be constantly encouraged to be more responsive to your courtship, Monsieur Barnabas. That much I can promise."

"_Merci_, monsieur," said Barnabas. "I will not disappoint you or your daughter."

Raoul grinned. "Very good. Now gentlemen, would you care for a sherry? A brandy, perhaps?"

Barnabas understood the stakes involved in this complicated, matrimonial arrangement. Not only did it involve convincing a cold, uninterested young lady to marry him, but it concerned his future in Collinwood.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

At dinner at the Louveaux household, Barnabas took part in the sumptuous feast that his hosts had provided while also feasting his eyes upon Christine. His assumptions about her beauty were wrong, but her coldness towards him had surprised him. He couldn't imagine how a young woman as beautiful as she could behave so frigidly. Yet, he concluded that she was most likely forced to meet him as he was to meet her. Therefore, he tried to warm up to her with light conversation. She would answer politely, smiled, and retreat back to silence as she did with his fellow travelers. From the letters he was given, Barnabas understood her to be a broad-minded and pleasant young woman, but he was frustrated that he couldn't immediately charm her. However, he still had hope that he could win her since he felt her hand tremble at his touch whenever he kissed it. Now, he needed to follow through on Raoul Louveaux's advice to win over Christine.

"Mademoiselle Louveaux, how was your life in the convent?" Barnabas asked.

Christine turned to him, surprised that he cared to ask. "Well, monsieur, it was enlightening for me. I believe that I was happier there than I am here."

After she said that, she felt Raoul's glare penetrate through her. She ignored it.

Barnabas tried again. "Surely, being sequestered inside of a convent was a bit dull."

"We were allowed fresh air at the convent, monsieur. We were allowed to read, meditate, to work in the gardens and help the less fortunate. I adored the gardens, monsieur, and the artistic depictions of the Holy Family and martyred saints."

Viewing her answers as progress, Barnabas smiled and said, "I was told that you play the harpsichord."

"Yes," she said, with a polite smile, "I like to play it when I don't feel like reading or strolling through our garden. And every once in a while, I sing when I play."

"Hymns, no doubt?"

"Not just hymns, but secular songs as well. I'm not just restricted to religious things, monsieur. I love reading various books and novels, and some of them were published in their original translations like Greek, Italian, Portuguese, and Spanish."

"You are able to read _all_ those languages?" asked Barnabas, surprised.

"_Oui_, monsieur. My Mother Superior took me under her wings and taught me how to read a few passages from different books in her personal library."

"No French translations?" Barnabas asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I read French translations! My father's library is filled with them."

Barnabas was amused at Christine's enthusiasm. He was becoming more intrigued with her.

"I see you have excellent taste in jewelry, mademoiselle. Your rings are exquisite!"

Christine sheepishly replied, "Well, monsieur, I don't have much jewelry in my possession. These rings belonged to my mother. She willed them to me before she died.

She looked up at her mother's portrait. Barnabas followed suit.

"Her portrait is well-suited here," she said. "It's almost as if she is dining with us. She loved music. Papa told me that she loved the harpsichord as much as I do, and had the most beautiful voice!"

Barnabas replied, "I'm sure that you had inherited your talents from her, mademoiselle."

For the first time that day, Christine smiled heartedly at Barnabas. Even her eyes lit up as she thanked him for his compliment.

_Now I'm making more progress with her,_ thought Barnabas.

Raoul, noticing his daughter's sudden warmth, said, "Ah, _ma petite_, I see that you and Monsieur Barnabas are getting on well."

"_Oui_, Papa," she replied, smiling, "and I was about to inform Monsieur Barnabas that no matter how hard he tries, I will never marry him."

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the dining room became quiet and tense. Mr. Dennison, embarrassed for Barnabas, lowered his head. Joshua frowned, Barnabas raised his eyebrows at her, and Raoul was about to explode. Ignoring her father's mood, Christine politely excused herself for the evening and left the dining room. Raoul feigned a smile, excused himself, and stormed after his rebellious daughter.

Joshua threw down his napkin. "Well! The nerve of that girl! Dennison, we will gain a business partner, but that insolent, dreadful young lady will not, or ever, become a member of my family."

Barnabas, whose eyes followed Christine with awe and lustful intrigue, disagreed. "On the contrary, Father, I think that she will make a wonderful mistress of Collinwood."

Joshua and Mr. Dennison looked at each other stunned.

"You mean to tell me that you will pursue that girl?" asked Joshua, eyes widened.

"Yes, Father," replied Barnabas. "You see, I believe that I understand her better than you or her father. I was able to get her to lower her guards. I'm sure that the more time I spend with her, the lower her barriers will descend. And at the end, she will not oppose to becoming my bride."

While Joshua continued to disagree with his son's conclusion, Barnabas was confident that his prediction will come true. Well, somewhat confident.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Three days later, Barnabas waited in his room, peering out the door,for Christine to exit her room. Since the infamous announcement at Wednesday night's dinner, Christine had apologized to her guests, with everyone, including Joshua, forgiving her. Joshua believed that the wrath-engulfed speech that Raoul gave to her that night had corrected her behavior. Barnabas, on the other hand, continued to make conversations with Christine while she politely participated. She anticipated that he would grow tired of his pursuit, and he anticipated that she would surrender to his charms.

Now, he was determined to win her over, to get to her heart, and have her to confide in him. He wanted to know more about her, this strange, exotically beautiful, young woman, with sky blue eyes that contrasts her jet-black hair. When he saw her exiting her room, Barnabas exited his, pretending that he was accidentally meeting her in the hallway.

"Oh, _bonjour_, Monsieur Barnabas!" she greeted.

"_Bonjour_, Mademoiselle Louveaux," he replied.

"Have the servants removed your entire luggage yet?" She asked.

Barnabas didn't know whether or not to be offended. "No, mademoiselle. Why do you ask?"

Christine was taken aback by his response. "I thought you would return to New England today. After all, I made myself clear that I didn't want to marry you since Wednesday's evening dinner. Also, I happen to had discovered yesturday that there is a ship leaving for New England today. "

"My dear mademoiselle, I believe that we had started on the wrong footing. You see, I would like to build a friendship with you. If I offended you in any way since my arrival, I do apologize," he said, his right hand to his heart and slightly bowing.

Christine, surprised and ashamed at her treatment of Barnabas, replied, "You are forgiven monsieur. Please forgive me for my behavior. I didn't me to purposely offend you. I was re-directing my anger from my father towards you for arranging our meeting."

"I understand," said Barnabas, sympathizing. "May I escort you to breakfast?"

He offered his arm for her to take. She looked at him with a strange curiosity, but thought better to be on good terms with a man who was at least interested in her friendship, and who would stay after her rudeness towards him. She took his arm and went to the dining room with him.

That afternoon, while the men went to Monsieur Chevalier's law office to further discuss their business prospects, Christine spent her time reading Spanish poetry in her room while pondering Monsieur Barnabas. He was strange to her since he never showed interest in her dowry, the plantation, or the business prospect that would surely peak his interest as heir to his father's shipping empire. Even when she continued her indifference towards him, she still felt a strange heat radiate from her body. She never felt this way with Henri.

"Come in," Christine called, noting Josephine's familiar knock.

Josephine entered with a tray of cookies and tea. "How's _ma cherie_ this afternoon?"

"I feel strange, but well, at the same time."

"Oh? Tell me about it," said Josephine, sitting next to her.

"Well, Monsieur Barnabas makes me feel…odd."

"How?" inquired Josephine.

"Well," said Christine, looking down at her rings, "whenever he kisses my hand, he would look at me with the most…suggestive expression as if he was luring me into something improper. I felt a strange warmth throughout my body, and would crave more of it. I thought I was careful to not show my demeanor, but I think that he saw through me. I mean, I thought that my blatant disinterest would make him and his company leave Delacroix Park, but he stayed."

Josephine giggled. "_Cherie_, he, his father, and their lawyer have business dealings with Monsieur Raoul. Also, perhaps Monsieur Barnabas is taken by your indifference and resistance to his charms?"

"That's impossible! No man is attracted to a woman like that."

"Not all men are repelled by such behavior. It is a challenge for them to win you over, like winning a game. And Monsieur Barnabas is one of those gentlemen who think of you as a worthy prize."

Christine sulked.

"Also, that warmth that you feel in your body? It means that you are a little attractive to Monsieur Barnabas."

Christine was aghast. "How could I?! I love Henri!"

Josephine shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Missy, you don't know what love is yet. You only have an infatuation for Henri. And you shouldn't feel guilty about being attracted to another man. It's normal for human beings to feel that way toward someone other than their sweethearts. Just don't let that attraction get the better of you."

"What does that mean?" asked Christine.

"Be a good girl, keep your feet on the ground, and your skirt down," said Josephine, flatly. "I got to prepare the soup before your father and our houseguests return. _Au revoir_."

After lunch, Raoul suggested that Christine show Barnabas their family garden. She agreed to do so since she knew that she and her father would argue again, further discomforting their guests, if she refused. When she and Barnabas came upon the immense garden of stone statues, green, leafy plants, and candied-color flowers surrounding a stone bench, Barnabas was impressed with its beauty although it did not compare to the DuPres' garden in Martinique. Despite that, he was more impressed by Christine, whose appearance in pink blended with the pink roses.

They were walking amongst the tulips when Christine asked, "Do you like our garden, Monsieur Barnabas?"

"I think it's beautiful, mademoiselle, but I believe that you outshine every flower here."

"_Merci_, monsieur. I'm flattered." She smiled briefly.

A moment of silence passed between them before Christine asked, "Monsieur, were you truly offended by my refusal to marry you?"

Barnabas, hands clasped behind his back, answered, "I was surprised by your remarks, mademoiselle, but I believe that I understand your position."

Christine raised an eyebrow. _How could he know about my position on anything?_

"Oh? Tell me about my position, monsieur," she said, skeptical.

He looked at her and said, "Well, you are a young lady who wishes to pursue her own plans without interference from anyone, especially her father. You wish to be taken serious for the ambitious and intelligent person that you are. However, you were disenfranchised because of your sex and your father's demands."

Christine nodded and replied, "Yes, that is the sum of my position. Do you mind if I be frank?"

"Of course, mademoiselle. Why don't we sit down?"

He ushered her to the stone bench where they both sat next to each other.

Christine sighed and turned to Barnabas, fidgeting with her white shawl. "Monsieur, I don't have feelings for you, and nor do you have feelings for me. We probably would never have any feelings for each other. I am flattered by your compliments and attentions upon me, but we do not know each other. I feel that even after two months, we would still be strangers to each other. Our fathers have their own reasons for matching us for marriage. I will assume that my father explained himself in the letters to your father."

"Actually, I read those letters myself and your father never mentioned any other reason besides business-related," replied Barnabas.

"Alright, I'll explain his _true_ reason. I am, as you and your father know, my father's only child. I have an uncle who is estranged from us, but we know nothing of his life. In New France at the convent, I planned to become a nun after my eighteenth birthday. Unfortunately, Papa took me away from the convent so that I could marry a Creole gentleman. I made various acquaintances in my father's circle, but they were comfortable with slavery and mistreating slaves. I was not, not even here at Delacroix Park. At the same time, I met Monsieur Chevalier and his nephew, Henri Dazencourt, and I developed feelings for Henri."

"I see," said Barnabas, remembering the curt law clerk he met earlier at Chevalier's law office.

"Henri asked for my hand, but Papa forbade me to marry him. I still have hope that Papa would change his mind…"

Barnabas took in the information he received. He now knows that the impertinent law clerk was a barrier between him and Christine. Somehow, he had to overshadow "this boy" and win Christine's affections.

"Tell me, mademoiselle," said Barnabas, "why did your father forbade the marriage?"

"Henri is not entirely established financially or socially. And he's a little less ambitious than most gentlemen. Papa said that if Henri pursued a law degree like his uncle, he would permit an engagement until Henri finished his education. Unfortunately, Henri doesn't care for the law."

"What does he want to do?" asked Barnabas.

"Henri told me once that he wanted to travel the world and eventually settle in Jamaica to gain his fortune," said Christine, hope showing in her eyes.

Barnabas chuckled at her naivety. "My dear child, surely you must know that there is a chance for his fortune in Jamaica to come to naught. Truthfully, a wife, or a prospective wife, cannot survive on hopes and dreams. Being intelligent and level-headed as you are, you have to see that your father does not want to see you suffer from destitution."

"Henri would never desert me, monsieur!" she exclaimed, defensive. She rose from the bench and drew herself up to her full height in consternation. To calm her, Barnabas, patted her hand and sat her back down next to him.

"Please, mademoiselle, don't take offense. I did not mean to imply that Monsieur Dazencourt would do such a thing to you. However, it is a father's worse nightmare to see his only daughter want for anything, especially if he wishes to leave this world with the assurance that his daughter would be settled with comfort and stability for life."

Christine had to admit to herself that Barnabas' comment made sense. Not that she believed that Henri would drag her into poverty or abandon her, but that fathers were fiercely, if overbearingly, protective of their daughters.

"I see your point, monsieur, but I know that Henri would never let anything happen to me. He is a good and honest man…"

Barnabas was annoyed that Christine was putting "the boy" on a pedestal. "That's fine, mademoiselle."

Christine sighed. "Well, now that I told you Papa's true reason for having you here, tell me your reason for coming here."

Barnabas became uncomfortable with the situation. He knew that he couldn't tell Christine the whole truth about Collinwood's scandal two years before since Raoul was adamant that she never know of it. Since Barnabas knew that Christine would not be satisfied without a proper answer, he decided to tell her, omitting names and certain details that would cause her alarm.

"Two years ago," he began, "I was to marry a young lady who was the daughter of one of our business associates. However, on our wedding day she eloped with a man who enticed her affections from me. I challenged him to a duel, in which I won and he survived. They still live in Collinsport. Shamelessly, I continued to pursue her, trying my best to convince her that her marriage to him was a mistake, but she spurned me, and her husband complained of me to my father. Because this man was also a business associate, it was decided that I should find another bride within a year, or be disinherited from the family fortune and be expelled from Collinsport for good."

Christine nodded. "So you're here to insure your inheritance by attaching yourself to me?"

"No, mademoiselle. I can travel abroad and get involved in trade to make my living. You see, I wish to not be disenfranchised of my inheritance because of a man who stole my fiancée from me. Yet, I have become an embarrassment to my family by my actions. My father believes that if I find the proper wife, my obsession with the woman would cease. Personally, I think that you could be the cure for my obsession."

Christine blushed, but stood firm against his flatteries. "Monsieur, I enjoy your compliments, but I don't think that I could be a wife to you."

Barnabas smiled and took her hand, placing it between his hands. "Mademoiselle, please give me a chance to prove myself worthy of your affections. If you still decide at the end of our visit that we are incompatible, then I would like to leave as friends. Yet, if I am able to win you over as my future wife, I would be ever grateful and content with your companionship, as I hope you will be with mine."

Christine allowed her hand to linger in Barnabas' hands while she considered his appeal. Honestly, she found him likeable, and did not want to rebuff him cruelly, especially since he was willing to depart as friends. So far, he didn't force his affections on her, and secretly, she was enjoying the close contact between them.

"Alright, monsieur. You will have your two months to court me without my objections or insolence to discourage you."

"_Merci_, mademoiselle," said Barnabas, kissing her hand while reviving the heat within her. Little did they know that Josephine was secretly watching them. Little did Christine know that Josephine was hoping that Christine would turn her affections to Barnabas and away from "the boy."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

During the rest of their stay in the Louveaux household, the Collins men were succeeding in their conquests. Joshua Collins, Raoul, and their lawyers had finalized their business agreements, in which Raoul's cotton would be transported within and outside the country, along with some agriculture products, by the Collins' ships. Barnabas, on the other hand, had become Christine's new confidant and friend, next to Josephine. Barnabas and Christine found themselves spending more time together reading and analyzing various translations of classic texts, taking open-carriage rides throughout the countryside and the city, and Barnabas enjoying Christine's musical talents in her private parlor, without Raoul's supervision. Also, they told each other more details about themselves, including Christine's years in the convent and Barnabas' travels around the world, and played chess against one another, in which Barnabas never minded losing to Christine. In mid-June, during Raoul's birthday /costume party, the elite of Creole society noted how close Barnabas and Christine became, including Henri, when they watched "Hades" and "Persephone" dance together throughout the whole celebration.

One day, while Josephine was bringing in dried laundry into the back of the house, she heard someone calling her name. From around the corner of the house, she saw Henri beckoning her. Like Christine, Josephine was privately on a first-name basis with Henri.

"Henri! You're supposed to be inside with your uncle. Why are you meeting me now?"

"I told him that I needed some fresh air and excused myself. You have to help me keep Christine away from Barnabas Collins," he pleaded.

"Henri, I can't interfere. There are too many things involved in this situation. As you know, business is tied to Monsieur Barnabas and Christine's prospective engagement. Their fathers are so confident about it that they added it to their business contracts," explained Josephine.

"I'm aware of that, but is Christine?" asked Henri.

Josephine shook her head. "I'm sure that Monsieur Barnabas doesn't know either. Considering that Christine is still hopeful of the both of you marrying, there will be a great battle between father and daughter if she doesn't accept Monsieur Barnabas' hand in marriage."

"Then convince Christine to elope with me. Tonight!"

Josephine dropped her basket and shook Henri by his shoulders, careful that no one was observing them.

"Have you lost your mind, boy? Do you know what her father would do to you? He would make sure that you work nowhere or travel anywhere. Also, he'll tear your bones from your body if you dare take his daughter from him."

Henri, unfazed by the possible consequences, smiled wickedly. "Josephine, you know what you and I are. You also know what we could do to the Collins men and Raoul Louveaux."

Josephine, not amused, glared at Henri with yellow, glowing eyes, her hands still gripped to his shoulders, and her voice deeper than what was normal for a human woman. "You will NOT use your powers against the Collinses or Monsieur Raoul. The man is despicable, but Christine will never forgive you if you do something to her father."

Henri's voice changed as well, sounding like a demon. "Her mother promised her to us before she died, and I am Christine's chosen husband."

"Keep your voice down," demanded Josephine, looking around. She cleared her throat and her voice and eyes returned to normal. "It's true that Elyse promised her to us, but she left me in charge of Christine's welfare on her deathbed. As the queen of our tribe, I will decide whether or not to free Christine from that obligation."

Josephine retrieved her laundry basket from the ground and said, "Whatever happens, will happen, Henri. Keep in mind one thing: if she chooses to be with you, she would need to accept becoming a Shapeshifter, which she may or may not become."

She turned and went in the house, leaving Henri to ponder if Christine would become a part of their tribe.

It was the final week of the Collins' stay at Delacroix Park. Joshua urged his son to ask Raoul for Christine's hand in marriage as soon as possible. Once Barnabas did so, Raoul gave his blessings heartily and prematurely welcomed him to the Louveaux family. Now Barnabas had to ask Christine for her hand, and in contrast to Raoul's reaction, Barnabas was worried that Christine may reject him. Yet he had to try anyway, and he had to convince her that he would be a better husband to her than "the boy," Henri Dazencourt.

He found Christine in her private parlor, playing her harpsichord. He approached her silently, not wanting to disturb the beautiful music she conjured from the instrument's keys.

"Bravo, mademoiselle! Your playing has always been exquisite to my ears," he said, when she finished.

"_Merci_, monsieur," Christine replied, with a half-smile. She lowered her eyes and feigned finding another piece to play in her music book. "Have you begun packing yet, Monsieur Barnabas?"

"Not yet," he answered, studying her mood. "Are you alright, mademoiselle?"

"_Oui_. However, I will admit that I will surely miss your company and companionship, but I'm glad that we have emerged from this visit as friends."

"But we could be much more than that," said Barnabas, sitting next to her on her harpsichord bench.

Christine, who couldn't find a decent musical piece to play, fumbled with her skirt, keeping her eyes averted from Barnabas.

"Mademoiselle Louveaux, I know that you opposed the possibility to becoming my wife, and I understood your reason behind it. Yet, over the two months that I spent in your company, I found myself drawn more to you than ever. I admire not only your beauty, but your intelligence and strange willpower. I do not wish to be parted from you or your unique qualities."

He took her hand in one hand and used his other hand to turn her face to his. He saw confusion and doubt in her crystal blue eyes.

"Please, mademoiselle…Christine, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Christine broke away from him and stood in front of the picture window, bordered by royal blue drapes, tied back with gold straps. Barnabas got up and came behind her.

"I know you are not in love with me, but I have developed great affections for you, Christine. I believe also that those affections could one day develop into love. You do have great affections for me as well, do you?"

Irritated that he used her Christian name without her consent, and conflicted between her loyalty to Henri and her new-found feelings for Barnabas, Christine replied, "Monsieur, I do have affections for you, but—but-I-"

"But what?" inquired Barnabas, fearing the worse.

She turned to him, controlling her emotions. "But if I marry you, will we have a happy union? Would we be hindered by people from our pasts?"

"Not if we don't let them," answered Barnabas. "Christine, I promise that I will do everything in my power to make you happy and content in Collinsport."

Christine looked into Barnabas' eyes and noted sincerity in them. She knew that deep down, for the first time in her life, she would rather part from Henri than to part from Barnabas Collins. The flames of passion he ignited within her could no longer be ignored. Although she wanted his constant companionship, she was ashamed since she considered herself promised to Henri. She knew she was barred from a future with Henri, but she saw herself as a woman of principle, one who always kept her word of honor. As much as her carnal self wanted Barnabas, she had no feelings for him other than friendship.

She stepped to the side of him, wringed her hands, and replied, "Monsieur, I—I can't give you an answer right now. At least, not at this moment."

"Christine, I must have an answer now. I leave in two days with my father and Mr. Dennison," urged Barnabas.

"I understand that, monsieur, but I can't give an answer at this moment. I didn't expect you to propose, so I feel caught off-guard. Please let me think it over this evening. I'll give you an answer tomorrow, I promise."

Barnabas was disappointed that he did not get the immediate answer he wanted. He wondered how some unmotivated and insolent boy could have such a hold on Christine's loyalty. Yet, he still had a chance to win her. She didn't say no or yes. And he could stand to wait another day.

"Alright, Christine, I will wait for your answer tomorrow, but please do not delay or rush to a rash decision. Please consider your answer carefully and remember that I am more than willing to discuss terms that will satisfy you as my life-long companion."

Christine nodded in appreciation. "_Merci_, monsieur."

He slightly bowed and hurriedly left the parlor. She was surprised that he didn't bother to kiss her hand. She suddenly felt sick and went straight to her room.

Later, Josephine went to her room to check on Christine, who was lying down with a cold compress on her forehead and her arm dangling off the bed.

"How are you this evening, missy?" asked Josephine, concerned. "I heard that you were not feeling well. What is it?"

"He asked me to marry him," said Christine, languidly.

"What? When?" asked Josephine, sitting on the side of the bed.

Christine removed the compress and sat up in bed. "He asked this afternoon. I was put-off since I didn't expect him to really ask me."

"What did you tell him?"

"I asked him to let me think about it and I'll give him my answer tomorrow."

"What answer are you leaning towards?"

"I'm leaning towards no," said Christine, with finality in her voice.

"Why?" asked Josephine, hoping it wasn't true.

"What do you mean "why"? Because I love Henri, that's why?"

"Do you _really_ love Henri? Considering that you spent more time with Monsieur Barnabas than you did with Henri as of late? Also, your papa would never let you marry Henri. You know that," said Josephine.

Christine sighed. "I know all that, but I don't love Monsieur Barnabas."

"_Cherie_, how many times must I tell you? Love is not a factor in your situation. Affections and mutual respect are what count. Do you have affections and mutual respect for Monsieur Barnabas?"

Christine answered, "I can honestly say yes. We spent much time together talking about literature, philosophy, religion, society mores, and ourselves. I love listening to his adventures across the oceans and about the different people and cultures he encountered. I enjoy beating him at chess, in which he doesn't begrudge me, but our marriage may be a disaster. We don't love each other and then there's that woman who left him for another man. He still pines for her."

"What woman?" asked Josephine, who already knew of the scandal from Raoul. Despite her animosity towards him, Josephine allowed herself to be Raoul's confidant so she could have information in guiding Christine through the wary waters of life.

"Monsieur Barnabas was once engaged to one of his father's business partner's daughter," explained Christine. "The woman left him for another man, but she still resides in Collinsport with her husband. Monsieur Barnabas was still pursuing her when Monsieur Joshua had threatened to disinherit him if he doesn't find a new bride. Josephine, I would just be his consolation prize if I accept his proposal. He would always hold this woman with the highest regards over me."

"Christine, I understand your concerns, but from what I saw, he appears to be completely enchanted with you. If he ever thought of this woman during his stay here, it wasn't for long since you always had his complete attention. I believe that his intentions towards you are honorable. Since your concerns plague you, you should discuss with him what you will and will not accept in the marriage."

"_If_ I say yes," said Christine.

"_If_ you say yes," replied Josephine. "Why don't you consider those expectations? I will bring up your dinner and inform Monsieur Raoul that you are not feeling well."

"_Merci_, Josey," said Christine.

Josephine winked and exited. She went straight to Raoul's study where she found her employer, smoking a cigar and reading the newspaper. Since the door was opened, she didn't immediately enter, but cleared her throat to get his attention. He looked up and beckoned her to enter, returning to his paper.

"Well?" he asked.

"Missy is not feeling well, monsieur. I will bring up her dinner."

Raoul looked up at Josephine. " Hmmm. She's ill indeed. Alas, too ill to give Monsieur Barnabas an immediate answer to his proposal."

"Monsieur, please understand that she feels loyalty to Monsieur Henri. She believes that if he was encouraged to be ambitious in life, you will still consider an engagement. But she feels close to Monsieur Barnabas. I can see in her eyes that she cares for him, but she'd have to see for herself that Monsieur Barnabas is the better choice."

"Ah! I see what you are saying, Josephine. She needs to see for herself that Henri would be a mistake," he said in realization.

"_Oui_, monsieur," said Josephine, nodding.

"Well, I have an idea. You finish the preparations for dinner. And remember to prepare the best dinner tomorrow for our departing guests. I'm going to have a talk with missy."

As he left the study, Josephine hoped that he wouldn't cause Christine to refuse Barnabas with whatever he plans to say.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

When Christine and Raoul returned from Monsieur Chevalier's law office the next day, Christine shed her bonnet and cloaked and inquired on Barnabas' whereabouts in the house. After Marcel informed her that he was in the drawing room with Joshua and Mr. Dennison, she and her father went straightway to their destination and stood by the entryway.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," greeted Raoul heartily.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," repeated Christine.

The guests stood and greeted the Louveauxs.

"I would assume that mademoiselle has news for us," said Joshua, appearing calm but anxious to know Christine's answer to his son's proposal.

"As a matter of fact, monsieur, I do have news, but I would be grateful if Monsieur Barnabas would walk with me to the garden to discuss it," said Christine, looking at Barnabas.

"Of course, Mademoiselle Louveaux," said Barnabas, smiling knowingly.

Once they reached the garden, they took their seats on the stone bench. Barnabas'dark eyes focused on Christine's blue eyes as she began.

"Monsieur, I am grateful for your patience with me. I know that our family's interests depend on my answer, and I do have an answer for you."

"Please, mademoiselle. Go on," urged Barnabas.

Christine sighed. "Before I give you an answer, I must tell you that my father asked me last night to convince Henri to study law abroad. In return, I am to accept your offer of marriage. I know that you will do what you can to make me happy and content in Collinwood, Monsiuer Barnabas, but I have to be honest. I'm accepting your proposal not because of my father's scheme, but because Henri had proved to me that he would not have a stable profession in order to have me. You said that I am level-headed, and that I am. I have to think of my future and the future of any children I intend to have. I was disappointed that Henri was so hostile when I brought up Papa's offer to him earlier this afternoon."

Barnabas' anger was kindled. "Hostile? Did he try to harm you in any way?"

"No, monsiuer. He accused me of being one of the _bourgeois_ social elites who cared only for social position and money, but you know that I could care less for any of those things."

"Because you rejected a life of wandering and vagrancy," concluded Barnabas.

Christine shrugged. "I would rather not wander from place to place without a permanent home to settle. Anyway, he took the offer, provided that he would practice anywhere but New Orleans. He leaves for a Parisian university in July where Monsieur Chevalier attended."

Barnabas took Christine's hand in his hands, caressing the sapphire ring. "Does this mean…that you will accept my proposal?"

"Only if you give me a proper proposal," said Christine, smiling.

Barnabas grinned in triumph as he got on bended knee and asked, "Mademoiselle Louveaux, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"_Oui_, Monsieur—yes, Barnabas, I shall marry you."

Joyfully, he rose from the ground, lifting Christine with him, and kissed her hands in the manner that always inflamed her.

The final, sumptuous dinner that evening was filled with harmony and laughter as everyone congratulated the future Mr. and Mrs. Barnabas Collins. The couple agreed that their marriage would be held at Collinwood in Barnabas'home with family attending only, due to the families' different religious opinions. Afterwards, Christine gave a harpsichord concert in her parlor to the men. Barnabas, still gloating from his triumph over "the boy," was admiring his new bride before him. She was everything that he could ever want in Josette's replacement. He never considered that her mind and interests would excite him as much as they did. And her beauty, her dark features contrasting with her eyes, captivated him from the moment he saw her portrait, mistaking her for her mother's. He did not love her, but he aimed to do so one day, and she would learn to love him as well. Christine reminded him of his mother, Naomi, in which both women had grace and dignity within them. Despite that, Barnabas was determined that Christine doesn't become like Naomi, drinking throughout the days and nights because of bitter disappointments, sadness, and loneliness. He would make sure that she was happy and content with her life and family, so that Christine would never find solace in strong drinks. She will seek protection in his arms, comfort from his caresses, and pleasure from his body. He will make her forget "the boy," Henri Dazencourt, who could not give her the life she deserves. Only he, Barnabas Collins can and will make her happy. He can and he will.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

In the middle of night, Christine moaned and groaned, tossed and turned, pulled at her nightgown, and finally shot up in bed, eyes wide open, and cold sweat pouring down her face. She got out of bed and opened her shutters for cool, soothing air.

_What kind of dream was that! It was so horrible! It had to be something I ate... I'll go to Josephine and see what she thinks._

She put on her dressing gown and went down the hall to Josephine's bedroom. She knocked on the door four times before a drowsy Josephine appeared in her white, cotton nightgown and wavy, shoulder-length black hair.

"_Cherie_, it's half past three. What's wrong?" asked Josephine, sleepily.

"Please let me in, Josey. I had the most terrifying nightmare. Please?"

Josephine moved from the entryway to allow Christine inside. She lit a candle at her table, invited Christine to sit with her, and shook the remainder of sleep off herself.

"Alright, missy, tell me about this dream."

"I dreamed that I was in my room, asleep. A loud rustling from outside my window woke me, but I was too afraid to see about it. Suddenly, a huge, monstrous wildcat-beast crashed through my window, saw me, and jumped on top of me. It was horrible, Josey. It had enormous, black, furry paws, lined with razor-sharp claws. It also had deadly-looking teeth to match. It put his face close to mine until I smelled his breath, which reeked of death. Then, amazingly, it spoke to me, in a man's voice."

"What did it say?" asked Josephine, suspicious of the beast's identity.

Christine shivered, looking pale and frightened. "It said, 'Come with me…and be one of us...or suffer the consequence.' That's when I woke up."

Josephine pondered the dream. A wildcat-beast? There was one reason why Christine would have a dream like that, and she will deal with _him_ later. She comforted Christine, telling her to read one of her Catholic books and pray. After Josephine sent Christine to her room, she opened her window and gazed at the moon, telepathically reaching the one person who would send Christine that nightmare.

_Henri? HENRI!_

_Ye-esssss?_ The voice responded in her mind.

_I want you to meet me in the city by Lorraine's Seamstress Shop at one o'clock sharp. Don't keep me waiting._

_Very well_, the voice said, contact between it and Josephine ceasing.

The next morning, the New England visitors' luggages were packed onto their carriage while they waited for Barnabas on the porch with Raoul. Barnabas was with Christine in her parlor, spending their last moments together.

"I'm going to have everything ready for you by the time you, Josephine, and Raoul arrive in Collinsport in October. What color do you want your new room to be, my dear?" asked Barnabas.

"Robin's egg blue. I so adore the color blue in every shade, but robin's egg blue is suitable for walls."

"And lace curtains and a canopied bed," added Barnabas. "I will place a writing desk in your room, a mahogany table for your meals, a vanity, a brass tub-"

"Barnabas!" she exclaimed, laughing, "You're spoiling me! You better go before you all miss your ship."

Barnabas patted her hand and said, "Alright, Christine, but I have a surprise for you."

"What?" she excitedly asked.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a beautifully-crafted, silver, diamond-encrusted broach. He placed it in her hand. Christine's eyes sparkled at her future husband's gift.

"Oh, Barnabas! It's beautiful!"

"I noticed that you never wore a broach on your gowns. Raoul told me that you didn't own one, so I thought that the future Mrs. Barnabas Collins ought to have at least one."

She got up to fix the broach to her bodice in the mirror. Barnabas walked up behind her as she modeled it.

"It's beautiful on you," said he, admiring her mirror image.

"It must have cost you a fortune."

"My dear, nothing is too costly for you."

"_Merci_! Oh, I wish that I had a present for you," she said, sadly.

"Well," said Barnabas, slyly, "you could give your groom a kiss."

Christine blushed. "Oh, well, Barnabas, I—I—well-"

Barnabas turned her to him and embraced her in his strong arms. She placed her hands on his chest from nerves, but he embraced her tightly until she was forced to wrap her arms around him. He looked into her eyes deeply, and Christine became entranced by the dark depths of his beautiful, brown eyes. Slowly, his face moved closer and closer to hers until his lips pressed against her own. He pulled back to look at her reaction. Christine's eyes were still closed and her lips were parted as if time stood still for her. She thought that she should break away from him, but she couldn't. And she wouldn't. She was enjoying this sensation too much to stop now. She opened her eyes, smiled, and kissed him back. He kissed her again, but this time, with unbridled passion. His tongue found its way into her mouth, touching her tongue and the roof of her mouth, causing both to moan with complete abandonment. His large hands were sliding up and down her back, eventually sliding down her backside. Realizing this, she pushed him away, blushing and panting.

"We must stop, Barnabas! You're too much for me. I feel so…carnal."

"Do you?" he asked, with a sultry tone. "I must confess something to you, my darling one."

"_Oui_?"

He lustfully looked into her eyes and said, "I _am_ carnal, and you _will_ know more carnal pleasure after our wedding."

Just then, they heard Josephine rapping on the parlor door, to Christine's relief.

"Come in, Josephine," said Christine, making sure her appearance was appropriate.

Josephine entered. "_Excusez-moi_, but Monsieur Joshua is calling for Monsieur Barnabas to come along."

"Of course, I forgot about Father and Mr. Dennison! Oh, and Josephine, let me say that it would be an honor to welcome you to my household as well."

"_Merci_, monsieur. I look forward to serving you and my mistress as your new housekeeper," said Josephine, leading the couple out of the parlor.

When the Collins travelling party left Delacroix Park, Raoul who remained on the porch with Christine and Josephine addressed his daughter.

"_Ma petite_, you made the right decision for our families and businesses. That is a lovely broach you're wearing. Is that from Barnabas?"

"You know it is, Papa," said Christine.

"Of course, _ma petite_." He turned to Josephine. "Josephine, from now on you'll assist your mistress in preparing for her new life as a wife. Understand?

"_Oui_, monsieur," said Josephine, nodding.

"Good. I'm going to write to your Uncle Andre, Christine, and tell him of our success," he said, entering the house.

Noticing that Christine was in her own world, Josephine brought her out of her distraction. "What were _you_ thinking about, missy?"

"He kissed me, Josey. On the mouth."

Christine looked around before continuing, whispering, "_And he put his tongue in my mouth in the most extraordinary manner during it_."

Josephine put her hands on her hips and smiled slyly. "We-elllll! How was it?"

Christine smiled wickedly and answered, "Delightfully sinful!"

At a quarter past one, Henri hurried through the crowded streets of the French Quarter to meet Josephine by the seamstress shop. Once he got there, he saw Josephine peering from the shop's corner. She motioned him to follow her to behind the shop. Once they were alone, they began their confrontation.

"Why did you summon me?" he demanded. "Shouldn't you be making your mistress/sister a wedding gown?"

Josephine crossed her arms, giving him a stern look. "Don't get smart with me, Henri! I know what you're doing to Christine."

"And what am I supposedly doing to Mademoiselle Louveaux?" he challenged.

"You sent Christine that nightmare! A nightmare that consisted of a frightfully, beastly wildcat with red eyes. In other words, you, in your true form, beckoning and frightening her into joining with the Shapeshifters."

"And what if I am?" snorted Henri. "She was chosen as my bride. It was your duty to make sure that she was secured for me, and you failed that task."

"I didn't fail, Henri. I felt that our lifestyle would not suit Christine, and as your sovereign queen, you will accept it."

"You can't give her to an outsider!"

"She _is_ an outsider, and I will do what I please. And because I may do as I please, I will warn you once to never plague her with nightmares again. If you do so, I will snap you in two."

"She belongs to me, Josephine! She should be engaged to me!"

"You didn't want to be industrious as your uncle and Raoul had suggested, so you rightfully lost her. Besides, even if an engagement between the both of you was allowed, who said it would go through without my permission?"

Henri fumed in silence.

"Now, Jean-Baptiste is waiting to take me back to Delacroix Park with some bolts of silk. Go abroad and make something of yourself. Leave Christine alone, or die foolishly. _Au revoir_!"

Josephine left him gnashing his teeth, his eyes glowing red. When she felt his anger directed at her, she turned to him with glowing yellow eyes, baring sharp, jagged teeth. He relented. She smirked and went her way.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

While Christine and Josephine were shopping for new clothes for Christine's new life in Collinsport, they were walking down the street when an old Black woman, wearing an orange, silk turban and many necklaces and beads, beckoned the women to her run-down shop.

"She's a fortune-teller," said Josephine, answering Christine's quizzical expression. "I heard people say that she is a true clairvoyant. Maybe she could tell you about you future in Collinsport."

Christine was uneasy at the thought of dealing with a fortune-teller. To her, they were agents of the devil who should never be trusted. "I don't know about this, Josephine. I don't trust people like her. Also, she could be a charlatan, trying to trick us for money."

"It wouldn't hurt, missy. She might reveal something important. Let's leave the packages with Jean-Baptiste and go see if this woman is a charlatan. If you get too uncomfortable, then we'll leave," assured Josephine.

Reluctantly, Christine agreed and left her purchases with her driver, Jean-Baptiste.

"Welcome, Mademoiselle Louveaux and Madame Baptiste," greeted the fortune-teller.

She showed the women into her parlor and seated them at a round table. There was an old sofa and some scattered chairs in the room, but the room itself hardly qualified as a proper parlor. Christine removed her rosary from her purse and held tightly to it.

Josephine asked, "How did you know our names?"

The old woman smiled. "I was expecting you to visit at this hour. I dreamt last night that I would see you in the French Quarter today, and that I must reveal to you the message I received-"

"Forgive me, madam, but I am not comfortable being around people who claim to tell the future or who have "spiritual" messages to reveal," said Christine, interrupting.

"But Mademoiselle Louveaux, I can assure you that I have no evil intentions towards you or Madame Baptiste. It's concerning your marriage to the One who lives by the great waters."

Still clutching her rosary, and squeezing Josephine's hand, Christine asked, "What do you know about him, Madame Fortune-Teller? I'm quite sure that whatever you have to say involves me not leaving Louisiana to marry the gentleman, which is what I intend to do. I won't be influenced by your words, nor will I pay a cent to hear you. Come, Josey. We're leaving."

As they were rising from their chairs, the old seer rose to stop them. "Please, ladies! I know you are wary of me and my message, but I promise that what I have to say is sound and wouldn't cost you a penny."

Josephine and Christine looked at each other. A fortune-teller who won't charge for her "prophecies" is someone who should be heard at the least. Christine sat back down, followed by Josephine.

"Say on, Madame Fortune-Teller. We're listening," said Josephine.

"Mademoiselle, before the tenth year of your marriage, you will have to choose from two paths that will determine your destiny: one is the path to destruction where you will ultimately regret your decisions, leading to your imminent death as a repulsive creature of the night."

"And the other path?" asked Christine, frightened.

"The other will lead you to purgatory where you will fight for what is yours and ultimately have everlasting joy and peace. But you must beware, mademoiselle. A trusting face will try to drive a wedge between you and yours. Beware of the wild-cat beast…"

"What about the beast, madam? What of it?" demanded Christine, wide-eyed, her palms and rosary pressed to the table.

"The beast," said the fortune-teller, "the beast with the red eyes…I saw him in my dreams taking you from your little ones. Don't give into him, mademoiselle, no matter what happens or what he says. His words can't be trusted. If you choose to break from your husband, don't go to the beast. And don't separate from Madame Baptiste, for if you do, you and your children will die…"

Christine ran out the shop, leaving Josephine with the fortune-teller. Inwardly terrified and concerned, Josephine needed to know more from the old woman.

"Madame Fortune-Teller, do you know what I really am?"

"Yes, and I know that although you are like the beast, you are not evil like him. I know that you love your mistress, who is also your kinswoman, and had always protected her until you were separated from her by her father. Yet, you must prepare for the future, Madame Baptiste. You must encourage her to stay with the One who lives by the sea. He is her true love. If she breaks her bond to him, the beast will triumph, and everything I foretold will indeed take place."

Josephine nodded. "Very well, madam. I will guard her and her offsprings' lives for all my days. I express my gratitude on behalf of me and my mistress. _Au revoir_."

Josephine joined Christine in the carriage, and, at Christine's signal, the carriage rode off to Delacroix Park.

"What were you still doing in there?" asked Christine.

"I had to know my part in the prophecy," answered Josephine.

"Do you really believe her?"

"She knew about your dream, didn't she?"

"That's true, but-"

"When a clairvoyant tells you prophecies and refuses money, it is our duty to heed their messages as truth, Christine."

There was a moment of silence between them until Christine asked, "What is your part in the prophecy?"

Josephine looked at Christine and said, "To protect you and your children and to keep you on that purgatorial path."


	13. Chapter 13

**Part II**

**Chapter 13**

The long journey along the coastlines in mid-October was boring and slow. However, Christine and Josephine spent much time together aboard the ship, playing cards, conversing, and reading books. Once they arrived at Collinsport's docks, the Louveauxs and Josephine exited the ship with all the passengers, followed by their luggage unloaded by sailors. While the women and Raoul waited for their trunks, a lumbering, heavy-set man with brown hair was walking towards them. Raoul, seeing the man first, walked up a few paces to keep him at a distance from his daughter and former maid.

"May I help you, fellow?" asked Raoul, on guard with his walking stick.

"Ain't you Mr. Lavall, sir?" asked the man.

"Mr. Lou-veaux, with an "x", my good man. You must be Ben Stokes, Barnabas' servant. He wrote that you and some other servants will come for us." Raoul looked over Ben's shoulder to see two wagons accompanied by three, strong-looking men.

"Ye'sir," replied Ben, nodding.

"Ah! Well, Stokes, you and your colleagues haul our trunks and my daughter's harpsichord on the wagons. We'll wait in the carriage," said Raoul, pointing his walking stick at the wagons and carriage.

"Ye'sir," said Ben, showing the newly-arrived guests to the carriage before walking back to the men and giving them directions concerning the items to be hauled.

On the drive to Collinwood, Christine was taken by the autumn beauty of Collinsport. She was reminded of her time in Ville-Marie, watching the trees and plants change from a healthy green to a palate of reds, oranges, browns, and yellows. She began to feel homesick for the convent and Ville-Marie, wishing that she could at least visit for a week or a day perhaps. She also thought about the old fortune-teller's prophecy about her "darkest hour," as Christine calls it, in ten years. Yet, she didn't worry too much about it since she and Josephine agreed to deal with it when the time comes. That is, Christine thought, if she could make sure that her marriage to Barnabas would be a success.

Once they arrived at Collinwood, Christine saw The Great House, where Barnabas' parents and other relatives lived, as they passed by to go to the original family estate where Barnabas currently resides. In the letters she exchanged with Barnabas, he told her more about his family, which included his aunt Abigail, a shrewish, religious fanatic, his uncle Jeremiah, with whom he is estranged, Jeremiah's sweet wife Josette, whom he never elaborates on, his mother Naomi, whom he wished would not overindulge on liquor, and his late sister Sarah, who died two years ago, at the age of eleven, from an "unknown" illness. Christine was deeply moved by his grief, and comforted him with loving words of Sarah's "new life with God." He appreciated her comfort, despite his leniency toward logic rather than religion.

Eventually, the family arrived at Barnabas' home, where the master of the house waited for their arrival. When he heard the sound of horses, Barnabas hurried out the door, watching the carriage and wagons come to a halt. Raoul exited the carriage, escorted Christine out, and helped Josephine exit. While Ben Stokes and the other male servants worked quickly to move the luggage and harpsichord into the house (the harpsichord was going to be in Joshua's old study), Barnabas greeted his fiancée and her family.

"Christine, _ma_ _cherie_, welcome to your new home," he said, embracing Christine.

Christine pulled away to look at the face that she longed to see. "Oh, Barnabas! I'm so glad to see you again. We have to engage in our promised chess matches as soon as we settled, you know. I missed them and you terribly."

"Have you?" asked Barnabas, teasing her. "I thought that you were glad to be rid of me."

"Hush now, monsieur. We haven't seen a minister yet, and already you want to quarrel."

They both laughed and embraced again.

Raoul cleared his throat. "I hope that you have not forgotten us, sir."

Barnabas and Christine blushed. "Oh, forgive me, Raoul and Josephine. Welcome to Collinwood, especially you, Josephine. I'm glad again that you chose to work as our new housekeeper. If you find your wages unsatisfactory, we could negotiate an increase."

"I'm happy with the wages, Monsieur Barnabas, as long as my mistress is happy with you. Thank you for allowing me to accompany Mademoiselle Christine," replied Josephine. Instead of having a seamstress shop in New England, Josephine, knowing that she would not be comfortable unless she was sure of Christine's well-being, chose to take up her former role as a housekeeper for Barnabas and Christine. When asked if she was sure about becoming a housekeeper again, Josephine reminded Christine of the prophecy and promised her that she would never leave her half-sister's side.

"You are most welcome. Now, if you all will come in, I will give you a grand tour of my home. Perhaps tomorrow I will show you the grounds. It is very lovely in autumn, and the scenery is beautiful for a stroll..."

After the tour, the Louveauxs and Josephine settled in their rooms. As requested by Raoul, in a letter sent in August, his and Christine's rooms were adjacent to each other. On the third floor, the servants' quarters, was Josephine's domain. As promised, Barnabas had Christine's room painted robin's egg blue with the furniture he promised: the brass tub, the canopied bed with royal blue beddings, an elegant writing desk and table with two chairs, white, laced curtains, bordered by thick, royal blue curtains, a vanity, and an embroidered two-seated sofa placed under the double-paned windows.

"I love this room, Josey!" exclaimed Christine, placing her silver-backed brush, comb, and mirror set on the vanity. "I mean, look around. It's like a dream come true!"

Josephine, putting Christine's gowns and undergarments away, looked around, bewildered. "Well, it is very…blue."

"You don't like it?"

"Well, I don't think that I could handle all this blue in one room, missy, but if you like it, then I'll learn to like it, too. As long as the curtains are open to let in white light."

Both of them giggled.

"I'm eager to finally meet the rest of the family," said Christine. "Barnabas wrote to me about them, but it's not the same as actually meeting them in person."

"Well, _cherie_, you're going to meet them this evening for dinner. Are they eating dinner here or at "The Great House," as it is called?"

"The Great House. It's only proper that we dine there since that's where the majority of the family lives."

Christine thought for a moment, smiled, and said, "I think I'll wear something…"

"If you say "blue," I'll jump out the window and swim back to New Orleans," threatened Josephine, pointing towards the window.

"Alright, alright, Josey," laughed Christine. "The peach one that you made for me."

"Better," said Josephine. "I'll lay it out for you."

Later that evening, Josephine was placing Christine's nightgown and dressing gown on the bed when Christine, obviously agitated and upset, entered the bedroom and slammed the door.

"What's wrong?" asked Josephine.

"Abigail Collins is what's wrong! I know that Barnabas wrote that she was a religious shrew, but-but…that woman is the devil incarnate!"

"What did she do or say?"

"That woman, "said Christine, removing her ear bobs and hair ornaments at her vanity, "called me and Papa "inhumane Papists" because of Papa owning slaves and me being his daughter. I resent Papa for owning slaves myself, but for her to be so rude to insult us, especially since I am marrying Barnabas, was appalling. How could anyone stand to be around her is beyond me!"

"Did your fiancé do anything about it?" asked Josephine, helping Christine to get ready for bed.

"He told her off and demanded that she apologize. When she didn't, Joshua made her do it. It satisfied my soul to see her apologize to us in abject humility," said Christine, smirking.

"Well, even without their intervention, you and your father know how to deal with her kind. Speaking of Monsieur Raoul, how did he react?"

"Papa is still outside, smoking his cigar and pacing. He'll come in once he calmed down. He told me that he doesn't require your services until tomorrow morning when you bring him his coffee."

"Very well," said Josephine, helping Christine into her gown. "What about the rest of the family?"

"You already know about Joshua and Abigail, but I really like Naomi. She's beautiful, pleasant, and is thrilled for my marriage to Barnabas. Yet, I found that she was a bit intoxicated this evening. With all due respect to her, I would had expected that she at least remained sober until after dinner."

Josephine nodded, sitting on the edge of Christine's bed after Christine sat down on it. "I heard from the other servants that Madame Naomi likes to overindulge on spirits in the evenings, due to her husband's chastising her for being drunk during daylight hours. Poor soul. They said that it got worse since her daughter's death."

"Yes. I feel sorry for her. I can't imagine burying a child at such a young age," said Christine, sadly.

"I'm surprised that Abigail didn't say anything to her at the table about her intoxicated state," said Josephine.

"She wouldn't dare in front of Joshua or Barnabas."

"What about Madame Josette and her husband? What do you think about them?" asked Josephine.

"I wouldn't know what to think. They weren't there."

Josephine's eyes widened. "Weren't there? Did they not care that their nephew's bride was coming today?"

"Yes, but they are away in New York, and will be back in time for the wedding. The family has relatives in New York who would be unable to come due to what happened two years before. I suppose that once Barnabas and I have settled into married life, they will see that everything is well with him, and that he has moved passed that woman who left him."

"We are all hoping for a successful marriage between the both of you, _cherie_. Now I bid you good night and a restful sleep. _Bonne nuit, ma cherie amour_."

"_Bonne nuit, ma cherie_," said Christine.

As the days went by, things got better for the Louveauxs. Abigail Collins was more civil to them, but Christine had no illusions about her and Abigail ever truly getting along. She enjoyed having tea with Naomi, who was sober during their meetings at Barnabas' home or The Great House. Naomi revealed to Christine how her own marriage to Joshua was arranged by their families. However, their marriage deteriorated over the years, but Joshua and Naomi tried to remain civil towards each other for their children's sakes. Naomi encouraged Christine in her relationship to Barnabas, and expressed her confidence in their impending marriage. Besides Christine, Josephine adjusted to her new life in Collinwood as well. The servants, who would come from The Great House to serve Barnabas, came to like her for her humility, her uncommon beauty, and the dedication and loyalty she showed Christine. As for Raoul, he was only glad that he didn't have to listen to Abigail speak as much whenever they dined at The Great House.

Four days before the wedding in late October, Jeremiah and Josette returned to Collinwood from New York. Once Christine and Raoul heard of their arrival, they quickly went to The Great House to greet them. When they knocked on the door, Jeremiah answered them.

"Yes, may I help you?" asked Jeremiah, curious of the visitors.

Christine smiled and replied, "You must be Jeremiah, monsieur. Barnabas told me so much about you and dear Josette. I'm Christine Louveaux, his fiancée, and this is my father, Raoul Louveaux."

Jeremiah's eyes brightened. "Well! What a surprise! Please come in."

Father and daughter entered the foyer.

"May I take your cloaks?" asked Jeremiah, ready to assist them.

"No, thank you. We won't stay long since you all are just returning, "said Raoul.

"Alright," said Jeremiah, escorting them into the drawing room. "Darling, the Louveauxs are here to see us."

Josette, dressed in a gray traveling gown, rose from the sofa in surprise as she saw Raoul and Christine walking towards her. The women took each other hands and kissed each other on their cheeks.

"Little Christine! It's lovely to see you again," said Josette, beaming. "I am so happy for you and Barnabas! I hope that you two will be happy together."

"I wish you the same as well, mademoiselle," said Jeremiah, standing next to Raoul at the doorway.

Christine turned to Jeremiah. "Please call me Christine, monsieur. After all, we will be family soon enough."

Jeremiah nodded in agreement. "You're right. Then call me Jeremiah, Christine. So, why don't we sit down."

The women sat on the sofa while the men sat in a chair at either end.

"I have to admit that I never saw Barnabas so preoccupied with preparations for your arrival than he ever was on the family business," noted Jeremiah. However, what he _really_ wanted to say was that he was glad that Barnabas was more occupied with preparations for Christine's arrival than with Josette. Since Joshua had informed the whole family that Christine had no knowledge of Barnabas' connection with Jeremiah and Josette, they were careful in what they said around her.

"I hope that the preparations didn't cause trouble for him," said Christine, concerned.

"Of course not, my dear," assured Jeremiah. "The whole family understands. Besides, we almost gave up on poor Barnabas ever finding a good wife."

"I hope that I could be some comfort for him, especially with the loss of his sister that still grieved him."

Josette said, "You will, _cherie_. Barnabas is glad to have another to fill his heart again."

"I know that I can't take Sarah's place, but I hope to be a worthy replacement for the woman who left him."

Both Josette and Jeremiah shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Noticing them, Raoul quickly interjected, "Yet, Barnabas was good enough to not burden us with the woman's or her husband's identities."

The couple relaxed, unbeknownst to Christine the reason for their anxiety.

"I am glad as well, Papa," said Christine. "Besides, Barnabas had chosen me and there is nothing, or no one, to stand in the way of our marriage. So, have the both of you had a successful marriage?"

"_Cherie_, that is an inappropriate question to ask them," chastised Raoul.

"No, no it's alright," said Josette, waving her hand in assurance. "Jeremiah and I are very happy together."

"I'm glad," said Christine, rising from the sofa. "Well, Papa and I must go now. Barnabas is taking us to the village to show us around and to take us to a little shop where I may choose little items to complete the furnishings in my new harpsichord parlor. It was lovely to see you again, Josette, and I'm glad to meet you, too, Jeremiah."

"It's lovely to make your acquaintances, Christine and Raoul," said Jeremiah, walking them to the front doors.

Once they left, Jeremiah rejoined his wife in the drawing room.

"Do you think that she is completely ignorant of us and Barnabas?" asked Josette, worried.

"Yes," replied Jeremiah. "From what I gathered, she was not told about our connection to the events of 1795. Yet, I can't believe that Barnabas would tell her details of the situation which she could put together in the future."

"Do you think she'll find out?"

"I don't know, my dear. Let's hope for our sakes that she doesn't. You remember what Joshua said about the Louveauxs: they're a proud family who do not care to be humiliated. If Christine finds out before the wedding, she'll flee back to Louisiana as if the plague was here. If she finds out afterwards… so help us all," said Jeremiah, sipping the brandy he poured for himself.

For the next two days, everyone was hustling and bustling to complete last-minute wedding preparations. The menu was set, the minister from the village church has been secured for the ceremony, and the wedding gown was scrutinized multiple times by Christine and Josephine for imperfections. Barnabas had also taken the liberty to introduce the Louveauxs to a Catholic priest from Boston, whose parish Christine may consider joining in the future. Although Abigail was there with them, Naomi, Christine, and Josette didn't let her sour mood spoil their get-togethers. When Christine asked Josette how she dealt with Abigail's attitude, Josette simply replied that she would ignore her since everyone else does. If only things were that simple where Abigail was concerned.

Two evenings before the wedding, the Collins and Louveaux families had dinner at The Great House. Everything was pleasant until Abigail found out that the priest from Boston was going to come to Collinwood on the wedding day.

Abigail said, "I think that the very idea of having a Catholic priest on our property, and in our home, is a betrayal to our Protestant roots. The next thing you know he'll try to force all of us to confess our sins to him and recite some prayer to the Virgin Mary and say Latin nonsense over our heads-"

"Abigail, stop being so overdramatic!" said Joshua, annoyed. "Having a Catholic priest at Collinwood will not endanger our salvation. Besides, he's not going to be here trying to convert us. He's coming here for the Louveauxs. Now let's enjoy the rest of our meals."

"I don't see why you have strong objections to the priest coming here, Abigail. Josette is still a professed Catholic, and this afternoon, we went over the rosary prayer," said Christine.

"She may be a Papist like you, but she would never disrespect our family by having the Papacy in our drawing room," snapped Abigail.

"Most likely because you may try to burn him at the stake for his convictions," retorted Christine.

Raoul smirked at his daughter's comments while the rest of the family, including Joshua, hid their amusement.

"The priest will arrive at Barnabas' home to hear our confessions and perform the sacrament of Communion upon me and Papa. Afterwards, he will return to Boston before the wedding begins. See, Abigail? He's not interested in converting you and this family. He most likely already heard about you, considering that your reputation precedes you throughout the Commonwealth of Massachusetts for being an overbearing zealot."

In overdramatic rage, Abigail shouted, "How dare you speak to me in such a manner! In my own home at that!"

"Then don't give me a reason to do so in _your brother's_ home. I never disrespected your Protestant beliefs, and I would like for you to keep your opinions about my Catholic faith to yourself," said Christine, matching glares with Abigail.

"Ladies, let's calm down. I think that this conversation should come to a close," said Jeremiah. He stood up and raised his glass to offer a toast. "I would like to propose a toast to the happy couple, who will add more joy and happiness to our family. Barnabas, Christine, may you two have a prosperous and blissful life together. Cheers!"

"Yes, Jeremiah, let's have that toast," said Barnabas, who has been cordial to Jeremiah since he returned from New York.

Everyone raised their glasses and drank, except Abigail.

Joshua sighed. "Now that that's settled, the only conversations I want to hear are those concerning the business or the wedding. Abigail, I will not hear another word from you about that priest tonight or any other night. Understand?"

Abigail, awed that her brother had sided against her, exclaimed, "Me?! Why don't you stand up for me and our family's heritage? You always took everyone's side, even when I warned you about letting Barnabas bring Josette here to marry-"

"Abigail!" shouted Barnabas, who jumped from his chair, glaring mercilessly at his aunt.

Abigail froze, wishing that she held her tongue tightly.

Everyone at the dinner table was quiet. Slowly, they turned to Christine, who sat frozen in her chair, shocked and in disbelief over what was just uttered. She understood now why everyone, even Abigail curtly, encouraged her marriage to Barnabas. It also explains why Barnabas had never revealed the identities of his former fiancée and her husband. The Collins family was using her to cement relations between an uncle and the nephew he wronged, and to bring peace to their families. Barnabas was using her to replace Josette, the woman that he truly loved and wanted. Her own father knew it as well, but "sold" her to the Collinses to get a better deal in shipping his plantation products. No. She won't be traded by her father to cement family relations. And she will ABSOLUTELY not become wife to a man who lied to gain her, who would treat her like a book on a shelf, and who would view her as a legal whore-wife.

She stood up gracefully, relinquished her napkin to her plate, and smiled. "Well, it's nice to know where I really fit into this household."

Barnabas, reaching for Christine's hand, tried to rectify the situation. "Please, Christine, I can explain-"

She snatched away from him. "Don't you dare touch me, Monsieur Collins! I knew that we were marrying for different reasons, but I expected you to be completely honest with me . You and your father lied to me. You tricked me into accepting your proposal!"

Raoul tried to calm Christine. "Now, Christine…"

"No, Papa! You will not have a word this time. You and Monsieur Joshua could renegotiate your contracts because I will never, ever, marry Barnabas Collins," she declared, irate.

She turned to everyone at the table. "It was nice meeting all of you. Well, almost all of you. Thank you for your hospitality, but my family and I are leaving Collinwood tomorrow for Louisiana. See, Abigail? Now you can rejoice that "the inhumane Papists" are leaving for good. _Adieu_, everyone."

She left the dining room swiftly, with Barnabas trailing behind her.

When Christine was fastening her cloak in the foyer, Barnabas came up to her, pleading, "Please Christine. Let me explain myself to you."

When she turned to him, she showed her scorned features to him, making him guiltier. "We have nothing to discuss, Barnabas. You lied to me and you were going to use me to keep your inheritance and as a prop while you continue to pursue Josette. I suppose that it wouldn't be long after the wedding, wouldn't it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Barnabas, confused.

"After our marriage, after you defraud me of my chastity, and after I give birth to your first born child, you'll leave us for Josette, that is, if she agrees to leave her own husband for you. Thank goodness that my father had enough sense to put in my marriage contract that my dowry is to be returned to me if my marriage fails."

"No, Christine. That would never happen! I will never abandon my family."

"Oh? You mean that you won't go off with Josette in the Caribbean sunset to Martinique or across the Atlantic to France perhaps?"

"No, my dear. I want you and you alone. Yes, I was in love with Josette at one time, but you have captivated me and my heart."

Before he realized it, Christine struck him hard across his face. He winced at the pain.

"Don't you dare say that to me! I hope that, for your sake, that Joshua would not disinherit you, but if he does, enjoy your new life aboard the merchant ships."

She spewed those words with venom and slammed the door behind her. Barnabas stared at the door, rubbing his cheek, and thinking of ways to prevent Christine and her family from leaving Collinwood. Raoul, who was watching the whole scene, came out from the shadows

"Whew! She has a powerful hand like her mother," said Raoul, amused.

Barnabas turned to Raoul, surprised at his presence. "Your reaction to this evening's events is curious, Raoul."

Raoul threw up his hands. "Well, Barnabas, I hoped that she wouldn't find out, but I suppose that with a relative like your aunt Abigail, she was bound to find out sooner or later. I bet you wished she would have found out after the wedding. Then, to where would she go?"

"That is where we differ, sir. I would rather that she never knew about any of it. Although I was surprised by the degree of her anger," said Barnabas.

"Sir," said Raoul, "my daughter is a Louveaux, and like I said in Louisiana, the Louveauxs do not take kindly to humiliation, and Christine is no exception. Now, you have to find a way to make her stay and marry you. I can talk to her tonight, but I can't make any promises that she would be receptive."

"I'll think of something, Raoul. You go and talk to her, but don't rile her against me. I will speak to her tomorrow morning if possible."

Raoul nodded and left to reason with Christine. Barnabas went into the drawing room to pour himself a brandy and ponder over how he was going to keep Christine in his home. And in his life.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The next morning, the day before the wedding, Collinwood was deathly quiet, especially when the estate should have been bustling over preparations for the upcoming wedding. That is, if there _will_ be a wedding tomorrow. Even the servants were silent on the matter. They were looking forward to the wedding that may ease tensions between their master's son and brother. Everyone on the estate was counting on it. Yet, Christine, dressed in her black traveling gown, sat on the sofa, looking out the window at the estate's grounds, anticipating her leave from Collinwood while Josephine packed her trunks silently. Christine did not speak to anyone besides giving the polite phrases of "thank you," please," "no thank you," and the like to the servants who were present at Barnabas' home. She spoke to Raoul last night, which resulted in a circular argument of why she should continue with the wedding. She had not spoken to Barnabas either, and didn't plan on doing so, nor had she spoken to any of the other Collins relatives. The only person whom she would speak to was Josephine, and Christine preferred it that way.

Suddenly, there was knock on the door.

"Yes?" called out Christine, turning from the window, distracted from her thoughts.

"It is Barnabas, Christine. May I come in?" he asked from the other side of the door.

"We have nothing to discuss, Barnabas. We will leave as soon as Papa had finished packing," replied Christine.

"Christine, there isn't a ship to Louisiana until tomorrow afternoon," he said.

"We are staying at the Collinsport Inn until the ship arrives," retorted Christine. "Now please go away."

"Please, Christine," pleaded Barnabas, "let me explain myself. I am sorry that I didn't tell you the whole truth, concerning Josette, Jeremiah, and me. I know that you would not care that your father made us promise to never tell you the whole story, but we thought that it wouldn't be proper…"

Christine interrupted him. "Proper! Ha! What do you know about being proper, monsieur? Didn't you think that it would have been proper to make me aware of the fact that the woman whom you loved is your uncle's wife?"

She got up from the sofa and approached the door. Josephine listened while she continued to pack.

"Didn't you think that I had a perfect right to know? I told you everything about Henri. I hid nothing from you. Shouldn't I have known what Josette meant to you? Or still do?"

"Christine, let me in, please. Discussing this matter through the door is embarrassing."

"What's the difference, Barnabas? Everyone knows, including the servants!"

"Christine, please! I won't bother you for the rest of the day if you let me speak to you in person."

Exasperated, Christine said, "Alright, Barnabas. I'll allow you to come in."

"Thank you," he said.

Christine silently invited Barnabas into her bedroom. She had Josephine to stand outside the door while she sat at her desk, looking into space, but prepared to listen to Barnabas' explanation. Barnabas kneeled next to her, hoping that he would be able to convince her to stay.

"Christine, I am sorry that I wasn't completely honest with you. However, you must believe that I do care deeply for you. I want to marry you. I want you to be the next mistress of Collinwood and mother to our children. Most of all, I want you."

When he reached for her hand, Christine jumped from the desk and stood be the fireplace. She looked up at her portrait that she brought from Louisiana. Barnabas followed her.

"I don't believe you, Barnabas, and I will not be manipulated into a marriage where my husband would treat me as a "doll wife" and pursue his uncle's wife."

"There would be no need to worry about that, dear Christine. I would not do so if you become my wife. All of my affections will belong to you and our family. Everything I have will be yours. You will not have to worry about anything or want for it."

"And Josette? How does she really feel about you marrying me? Does she love Jeremiah as much as she says?" she asked, searching his eyes for the truth.

"She says she does. She stayed with him, even after the duel."

"And you still pursued her."

"It was wrong, yes, but since I met you, my love for Josette became a distant memory."

Christine thought for a moment. She didn't really believe Barnabas, but if she talked with Josette about the issue, then she could make a final decision on whether to stay at Collinwood permanently or to leave for Louisiana for good. Barnabas observed her, searching for signs of her considering his words.

"We'll see, Barnabas. We'll see."

"Does that mean…you will stay and be my wife?" he asked, hope in his voice.

Christine gave him no indication of a yes or no. "I'll tell my father that we will stay. For the night, Barnabas. I'm going to talk to Josette about this situation. If she has no interest in you at all, then you'll have a bride tomorrow. If not, good luck in your travels. You may leave now, monsieur."

Before Barnabas exited her room, he said, "One more thing, Christine."

Irritated, she replied, "What?"

"If your inquest has favorable results, will you have a private dinner with me this evening?"

Christine looked at him, emotionless. "It's not proper, Barnabas. My father would never allow it."

"I'm sure that he would understand, given the circumstances. And it would give us a chance to talk about whatever you wish. I'm sure that Raoul would not mind having dinner in his room this evening," he assured.

"We'll see, Barnabas."

She turned her back on him and he exited her room. Josephine entered afterwards.

"Do you want me to finish packing?" Josephine asked.

Christine sighed and retrieved her matching hat with the black and white plumes. "No, Josephine. You can stop for now. I'm going to visit Madame Josette and hear for myself on her "relationship" with her nephew."

At around two o'clock in the afternoon, Christine was escorted into the drawing room by a maid who went to get Josette for her. She sat patiently on the sofa until she heard footsteps coming down the stairs to the drawing room. Josette, surprised to see Christine, entered and closed the double-doors behind her.

"Christine," Josette said, awed, "I thought that you and your father left Collinwood by this time."

Ignoring her statement, Christine rose from the sofa and faced Josette. Her presence intimidated Josette since Christine resembled a stern, middle-aged matron rather than a seventeen-year-old, beaming bride-to-be.

"Josette, what is between you and Barnabas? If there is something still between the both of you, I want to know right now so that I can freely leave Barnabas with a clear conscious."

Josette replied, "No. there is nothing between us. I feel nothing but familial love and friendship towards Barnabas. Did he say anything to the contrary?"

"He said that you and he are in the past. However, I have to know why you rejected Barnabas for Jeremiah. Did he do something to make you turn to Jeremiah, or were you and Jeremiah lovers throughout the whole time?"

"That's not fair, Christine! I hardly knew Jeremiah at the time. Everything just happened!" protested Josette, sitting down on the sofa. Christine sat next to her, waiting for Josette to explain herself.

"You see, I did at one time love Barnabas with all my heart and soul. Ever since he came to Martinique to tutor me in the English language. I thought he was the man for me at the time and I very much wanted to be his wife."

"Until Jeremiah came along?"

"No, it wasn't that simple, Christine."

"Then what happened?"

Josette rubbed her forehead, striving to remember the 1795 events that took place. "I don't know exactly how it began, but one night, I found myself drawn to going to Jeremiah's room. I professed my desire for him, but he rejected me like an honorable gentleman. Soon, he returned his affections for me. We were ashamed for betraying Barnabas and embarrassing our families, but we couldn't help ourselves. On my wedding day, we eloped and spent our honeymoon at Collinsport Inn for a few days. When we returned and informed our families on what we did, Barnabas was so furious. I never had seen him so angry, Christine! He challenged Jeremiah to a duel, in which I thank God every day that both survived, but Barnabas kept pursuing me. I told him many times that I was Jeremiah's wife now, and that is what I shall be for all my days."

Christine took in everything that Josette said. Yet, she was puzzled that a woman coming from a distant land to marry the man whom she loved with her "heart and soul" would suddenly marry his uncle, a man whom she hardly knew. The whole story did not sit well with her. However, since the situation happened two years before, Christine couldn't judge Jeremiah and Josette. However, she could judge Barnabas because her future depends on whether or not she could really trust him as her husband.

"Alright, Josette. That's all I wanted to know. I'll take my leave of you," said Christine, rising to leave.

"You must believe me, Christine. Jeremiah and I were really hoping that things would go well between you and Barnabas," said Josette, sadly.

Christine turned to her, holding the front door open. "Don't worry, _cherie_. You and Jeremiah would have no need to worry about Barnabas harassing you. For tomorrow, I will become Madame Barnabas Collins."

After the women smiled at each other, one from relief and the other out of assurance, Christine left for her future home.

When Christine arrived at Barnabas' house, she found Barnabas waiting for her in the parlor.

"Christine, did you find out what you wanted?" he asked, walking towards her by the stair railing. His eyes held hope that that her answer would be in his favor.

Christine removed her hat. "Barnabas, after speaking with Josette, I found that I have nothing to worry about anymore. She is dedicated to being Jeremiah's wife. Therefore, I will inform my father that we will stay at Collinwood, and you and I will marry tomorrow afternoon as planned."

Relieved and delighted, Barnabas took Christine's hands in his. "Oh, my dear! I'm so happy that Josette was able to convince you of my loyalty to you."

She took her hands from him and gave him a small smile. "Barnabas, don't become too complacent. Truthfully, I am staying because Josette has assured me that she would not come between us, not because I took on a false notion of your "loyalty." Perhaps, in the months and years to come, my feelings for you may change to total trust…and love. In the meantime, keep your promises and fidelity to me and I will do the same on my part."

"I promise that you won't regret your decision, Christine," said Barnabas.

"Very well," said Christine.

As she walked up the stairs, Barnabas called to her. "And the private dinner, my dear?"

"Oh, that," said Christine, remembering her previous promise to him. "I will inform my father that you and I wish to have a private dinner. After all, he'll understand, right?"

She went upstairs, feeling his eyes upon her until she turned the corner to her room.

"Sounds like witchcraft to me," said Josephine, tightening Christine's corset.

"You think so?" asked Christine, smoothing her corset with her hands.

"Well, there aren't any other explanations that make sense. Never in my life had I heard of anyone marrying a complete stranger while engaged to his relative. It has to be black magic."

Josephine helped Christine put on the sapphire dress that belonged to her mother. While Josephine tended to Christine's hair, the young woman asked, "Should I be worried?"

"About what, _cherie_?" asked Josephine.

"Should I worry about Josette and Barnabas being drawn to each other again?"

"I don't think so."

"But if it was witchcraft, could the spell be broken?"

"I suppose it could, but Jeremiah and Josette are legally married, and witchcraft cannot put them asunder. Also, the person who supposedly cursed them had died."

"What person? Did you hear something from the servants?"

Josephine said, "I heard rumors that there was a witch here in Collinwood that was hanged. You wouldn't believe who it was!"

"Who?"

"Angelique Bouchard."

Christine's mouth dropped open in the mirror. "Josette's maid?

"_Oui_. Of course, that didn't surprise me since I knew what she was all along."

Christine lifted her brow. "How did you know?"

"Remember the Christmas that the DuPres family came to visit Delacroix Park? Before I was sent away to Bastide?"

"Yes."

"Well, as you know, I have... certain abilities that includes seeing inside of a person's heart and knowing what lies beneath their surfaces. I think she knew that I knew her secret, but, she knowing mine, we kept each other's confidences. Besides, she wasn't a threat to you."

Christine had always known that Josephine had certain powers. Yet, she didn't know that Josephine could communicate with anyone telepathically or could transform herself into a fearful, menacing beast. Christine knew that not only could Josephine make shadow puppets come alive or make animals make different sounds like a cat barking or a dog mooing like a cow, but Josephine could put fear in the hearts of others with one look and make them fail in whatever evil deed they planned for her or the Louveaux family.

"How come you never used your abilities to stop Papa from giving you to Bastide or from letting Bastide force you into being a concubine?"

"Because, _ma cherie_, I would have to kill them. If I lay a hand on them, your former peers will murder me and you will be alone."

Christine was silent for a moment, understanding Josephine's past dilemma. "What else did you hear about Angelique?"

"I heard that she placed the curse on Jeremiah and Josette because she wanted your fiancé."

Christine spun around in her chair. "She was in love with Barnabas? Did he reciprocate?"

Josephine turned Christine back around. "Missy, you're going to make me ruin your hair style if you don't hold still! Anyway, I heard that he had a brief affair with her in Martinique while pursuing Josette. She was incensed when he rejected her for her mistress. Therefore, she sought revenge by turning Josette away from him to his uncle. But she didn't expect that he would obsess over Josette. So, she made his sister Sarah gravely ill in order to make him marry her for a cure."

"How horrible! No wonder he would refer to his sister's illness as "unknown." How did he discover Angelique's true identity?"

"As it turns out, Abigail suspected that Angelique had a hand in the strange occurrences here, so she snuck into the woman's room, found the doll used to make Sarah ill, and reported it to Monsieur Joshua, who had Angelique arrested, tried, and hanged for her crimes."

"I'm glad that Abigail didn't suspect you of your powers," said Christine, releasing a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad as well, but then again, I'm more careful than Angelique was. She let her passions get in the way, which led to her downfall."

"And still caused Sarah's death," added Christine. "Since Angelique is dead, wouldn't her curse upon Jeremiah and Josette be lifted?"

"Like I told you, it wouldn't matter since they are married, and, apparently, she doesn't want Monsieur Barnabas back." Josephine placed the last pin in Christine's hair. "There! Now you are ready for your private dinner. Remember that your father wants you in bed by nine o'clock. As a bride, you'll need your beauty rest. And…one more thing."

"What?" asked Christine.

Josephine wrapped Christine's white-laced shawl around her shoulders. "Be a good girl, keep both feet on the ground, and most importantly, keep your skirt down until after the wedding."

At their candle-lit, private dinner in the dining room, Barnabas and Christine enjoyed their meal and talked about the upcoming wedding, their honeymoon at Collinsport Inn afterwards, and their expectations for the future. Later, they retired to the parlor and sat by the fireplace in matching chairs where Christine thought that it was time to embark on a controversial topic.

"Tell me about Angelique Bouchard, Barnabas."

Barnabas nearly choked on his saliva. "Wh-what?"

Christine leaned forward and repeated her statement.

Barnabas asked, "Who told you about her? Josette? Abigail? My father?"

"It doesn't matter, Barnabas. You said that we could discuss whatever topic I wanted, and I choose to talk about Angelique. What was she to you?"

Barnabas looked at her with alarm.

"Don't worry, my dear. We'll marry tomorrow, but I want to know what drew you into the arms of the woman who threw your family into chaos two years ago."

Accepting her assurance, Barnabas revealed that he had a "meaningless episode" with Angelique. He told Christine that Angelique tried to reignite the affair, but he rejected her due to his engagement to Josette. The next thing he knew, he was mysteriously choking to death, Jeremiah and Josette married, his sister came down with a sudden illness and died, and other things happened that Barnabas revealed to his bride. When he reminisced about Sarah, Christine could see that Barnabas was in deep pain and remorse. Angelique could had went after anyone or him, but Sarah? She was so young and full of life. She didn't deserve to die for his indiscretions. He blamed himself for her death and wished that he could switch places with her. He buried his face in his hands and began to weep. Feeling sympathy for him, Christine rose from her chair and sat at his feet. She took his hands in hers and assured him that it was Angelique who caused his sister's untimely death due to her rage against him. Christine kissed his hands and nuzzled her face on them.

However, mistaking her comfort for an invitation to seduction, he drew her up to him and kissed her passionately. Christine was surprised at first, but gave in as their tongues entangled in each other's mouths. Yet, her anxiety rose once he slid from the chair with her and laid her on the rug before the fireplace, kissing her neck, and lower to her bosom. Realizing that he was now raising her skirt, she bit his lip hard and escaped up the steps with her shawl in tow. Realizing his own error, Barnabas, wiping the blood from his bottom lip, decided that it would be best to not bid her goodnight and went straight to his bedroom.

"He did what?!" exclaimed Josephine, aghast.

"I…I was comforting him over Sarah, and the next thing I knew, I was about to lose my chastity before the wedding."

"Are you sure that you're _still_ chaste as we speak?"

"Of course I am! I bit him to make him stop. Promise that you won't tell Papa."

Josephine sighed and threw her hands up. "I won't tell him, but remember what I said about how Angelique couldn't control her passions. Obviously, he can't control his either. Be careful of him, missy. We already know that he is capable of fostering an obsession. I think he's already developed one with you, considering that you have yet to be conquered. And I don't mean that in illicit terms either."

"I don't expect to be conquered on emotional terms, Josey, but if he does conquer me in that manner, then so help me. I like him, and I do lust after him, but I don't think I could ever love him."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

The next morning, the wedding day, Josephine, dressed in sky blue and a white kerchief, noticed that Christine was listless as she was fastening her white, wedding gown with blue embroidery and diamonds weaved in the material. She led the young woman to the vanity to put lilies in her hair, followed by her veil. No words passed between them as the women prepared for the wedding; however, Josephine had to break the ice since the bride was nodding off.

"Will you hold your head still, Christine, or the hair style and veil will be crooked."

"I'm sorry... Josephine. I'll hold still," said Christine, sleepily.

Josephine looked at Christine's reflection in the mirror before concentrating on her task. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"No... I did not," replied Christine, yawning.

"Why? Because of what happened last night?"

"Josephine... I had a nightmare of the red-eyed beast last night." Tears began flowing down Christine's face.

Josephine kneeled at Christine's side and turned her to her. "What happened in this dream, _cherie_? Tell me!"

"Please, Josey! It was horrible! Don't make me tell!"

Josephine took a clean handkerchief from Christine's drawer in the vanity and wiped the young woman's eyes. "There, there, now. I didn't mean to raise my voice, but I have to know what happened. You know that you'll feel better if you tell me anyway."

Christine composed herself. "This time, I was sitting at the window, waiting for the priest to come with Papa when the beast crashed through the window. I ran to the door to escape, but he came upon me so quickly and held me down on the floor, snarling and glaring at me. He took his paw and slashed at my face, and I tasted my own blood. Then he slashed at my stomach! As I felt myself dying he said that this dream is only a warning. If I ever fall in love with Barnabas, and decided to stay with him instead of joining with the beast, he will come back for my children…born…and unborn!"

She began sobbing uncontrollably and fell to the floor. Josephine picked her up and embraced her. Yet, in her mind, she contacted the one who caused Christine so much distress at the moment.

_Henri…HENRI! I know you can hear me…I warned you before to leave Christine alone. Don't fool yourself into believing that I can't get to you from far away...I can send you nightmares every night that will make you want to take your life! For the last time, leave her alone or I will find you…and destroy you once and for all! LEAVE HER BE!_

"Josephine? Josephine?"

Distracted, Josephine looked down at Christine, who was now looking up at her in confusion. "_Oui?"_

"Are you alright? I said your name several times, but you had the oddest expression on your face, as if your mind went blank."

Josephine let Christine go and helped to straighten her wedding gown. "I'm alright, missy. And don't you worry about that dream or that beast. He won't bother you again. His words are meaningless. You just have a good life with Monsieur Barnabas, and no one will harm you or your family. Now…let's get back to your hair before the priest arrives with your father."

The wedding took place at noon in the parlor without hindrances. When Raoul escorted his daughter down the stairs, followed by Josephine, everyone was in awe, even Abigail, over her appearance. She looked like a noblewoman about to marry a duke, wearing a bejeweled gown, her hands covered in her mother's rings, and wearing a silver crucifix on a strand of pearls that Barnabas sent to her room as a peace offering for his behavior the other night. He planned to give her the necklace on her birthday, which was a week away, but he needed to make amends so that she wouldn't reject him on their wedding night. Barnabas himself looked dashing in his black wedding suit, wearing a blue, satin waistcoat in Christine's honor and a black neck cloth. There was no hesitation from either of them as they exchanged their vows. When the time came for Barnabas to place the golden wedding band on her finger, last minute doubts plagued her mind about her marriage to Barnabas. She still had deep concerns about his loyalty and affections to her, but she was there, in front of their families, in front of this Protestant minister, and next to Barnabas, her future husband. Yet, she did not pull away when he slowly slid the wedding ring on her finger. She looked at it for a moment and focused her attention on the minister's final words.

"…by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. You may now kiss the bride."

Barnabas leaned into Christine's face and kissed her sweetly. Afterwards, everyone gave their congratulations to the newly-wedded couple; even Abigail did so with curt politeness. At the reception, the wedding party enjoyed the food and cake, and well-wishes and champagne flowed like there was no tomorrow, in addition to the conversations of anticipating the "pitter-patter of little feet "in the coming months. Not that Christine was scandalously with child, but the idea of children being brought into their marital situation made her anxious. She wasn't afraid of consummating her marriage with Barnabas, but feared that Barnabas would not receive her children in the same manner if they came from Josette. Throughout the reception, she kept fidgeting with her wedding ring, half-disbelieving that she actually married the man whom she almost left, the same man whom she barely trusted. Nevertheless, she was now his wife and would have to live with that fact for the rest of her life. When it was time to prepare for the trip into Collinsport, Josephine followed Christine upstairs to help her change into her red traveling gown. The couple was to stay at Collinsport Inn for a week, giving Barnabas the chance to familiarize Christine with life outside of Collinwood and the various shops and places that she would need to know as a permanent resident. Once she was dressed, and Ben Stokes and the other male servants moved her luggage into the carriage with her husband's belongings, Raoul asked to have a private conversation with his daughter in her room.

"_Ma petite_," he said, "I am very happy for you and Barnabas."

"_Merci, Papa_, "said Christine, trying on her matching hat with the red and purple plumes.

"You were dazzling as a bride, Christine. I believe that your wedding gown was Josephine's best work ever. Now, you look like a distinguished, married lady."

"I'm glad that you approve of my appearance, Papa, but what did you want to discuss?" she asked, facing him.

"I was wondering exactly what made you decide to stay and marry Barnabas."

"Josette's assurance of her loyalty to Jeremiah kept me in Collinwood, Papa."

Raoul nodded. "Very well. Has Josephine instructed you in your wifely duties?"

"She informed me many times about how a marriage is based on mutual respect and fondness for the other," she answered, avoiding what he truly meant by that question.

"I meant did she inform you of what is to take place in the _boudoir_ tonight!"

Christine, shocked and embarrassed, turned her face from Raoul. "Papa! How could you ask a thing like that? That's personal."

"Did she or did she not, girl?"

Hating that her father was so insistent to know, she shyly nodded.

Raoul, satisfied, smiled, "Good. Whether you like the idea of it or not, your future entails in becoming a good wife and a good mother. Give him many children, Christine, and he will worship the ground you walk on."

"Did you worship the ground _Maman_ walked on?"

"Of course. If she was still alive, you wouldn't have been the only child. Now let's go downstairs. I'm sure that your husband is impatiently waiting for you."

As Raoul escorted her down the steps for the very last time, Christine's private fears of her wedding night resurfaced. Yes, Josephine had lectured her several times on what was to take place between a man and a woman, but she was unsure of herself sexually. When she planned to be a nun, she had no thoughts of her own sexuality since she never conceived that one day she would marry. Yet, she hid her insecurities and resolved to not show it tonight to her husband. Raoul gave Christine a dutiful kiss on her forehead and made her promise to write him on a monthly basis since he was leaving Collinwood right after the couple's departure. Josephine and Christine hugged each other while Josephine quickly whispered assurances to her concerning the wedding night. Then, Barnabas helped his bride into the carriage, got in himself, signaled the driver to go, and they took off, waving goodbye to everyone.

As they were traveling, Barnabas noticed that his bride kept dozing off during their conversations across from him.

"My dear, did you get enough rest last night?"

Christine, half awake, answered, "I beg your pardon?"

"Did you get enough rest last night?" he asked again.

"Actually, I did not, thank you. I suppose that the excitement and anxiety over the wedding had kept me up."

Christine didn't want to tell Barnabas about the nightmares she been having. She felt that it would make the beginning of their marriage more awkward than it needs to be. Barnabas, however, believed that Christine was more anxious about their first night together rather than the wedding, but he did not make his thoughts known to her.

"I see. Why don't you sleep for a while? I'll wake you when we've arrived at our destination," he suggested.

Christine smiled and drifted immediately off to sleep. Watching her sleep, Barnabas thought that she was the most desirable creature that he'd ever laid eyes upon. His lust for her was rising and he wanted to take her at that very moment. The outline of her bosom in her outfit stirred his imagination as he imagined himself stripping the materials, piece by piece, from her body while savoring her luscious lips to her lower regions. Oh, how glad he was that she was asleep, for he would have frightened the poor girl with "evidence" of his arousal.

They arrived at Collinsport Inn by dinner time. After the newly-wedded couple saw that their luggage were settled in their room, they had dinner in the dining hall where both enjoyed a somewhat quiet dinner around other conversing travelers and musicians playing cheerful melodies. Once again, Christine was not paying attention to Barnabas' plans to take her shopping in the village throughout their time there. She was thinking about the upcoming consummation, fidgeting with her wedding ring while partially listening.

"…Would you like that, _cherie_? _Cherie_?"

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? You seemed distracted," said Barnabas, concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, reassuring him. "You said something about buying me gowns?"

"I was, but I want to talk about your current state." He leaned over to her and asked, "Are you nervous about tonight?"

Christine shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She refused to make eye contact with him or to answer the question, but Barnabas already knew the answer.

"You're afraid of …what's to take place tonight, aren't you?"

Christine shifted again and answered quietly, "Yes."

Barnabas gently smiled at her and placed his hand over hers. "My dear Christine, I can assure you that there's nothing to fear. It will be…interesting."

His gentle smile transformed into a wickedly seductive one. His eyes spoke of his desire for her, a deep longing, to finally have her. To kiss her, to fondle her, to…everything. Christine simply smiled and gulped down her wine.

Once they were in their room, Christine agreed to change into her bed clothes behind the dressing screen while Barnabas changed outside of it. She put on this translucent negligée that Josephine insisted that she buy, but felt so uncomfortable wearing it in front of Barnabas that she put on her blue dressing gown over it. After saying her prayers for the evening, Christine wanted to brush her hair. However, she did not know whether or not Barnabas had finished dressing himself.

_He should have finished dressing for bed by this time, _she thought_._

Impatient, she called out to him. "Barnabas?"

"Yes, my dear?" he answered.

"Have you finished dressing? I would like to brush my hair at the vanity."

"Yes, I've finished dressing. You can come out now."

Christine took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the screen. She saw her husband sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing an embroidered green and black dressing gown over a nightshirt. He stared at her, admiring her beauty and luscious figure.

"You are a rare beauty, my darling wife," he said, pure desire raging from his voice.

She shyly thanked him and attended to her hair. When she removed the pins that held her hair, it fell down her back like a waterfall, which made Barnabas moan softly, but loud enough for Christine to hear. After she thoroughly brushed her locks, she attempted to braid it, but Barnabas got up and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"You don't have to braid it tonight. Or possibly every night. I like your hair this way."

He played with her hair until he finally moved the tresses behind her shoulders. He lifted her from the vanity, escorted her to the bed, and had her sit on his lap, with her back towards the headboard. Barnabas smoothed a lock of her hair from her face, and kissed Christine while helping her out of her dressing gown. Taking Josephine's advice, Christine held still as her husband fondled her body through the gown and kissed up and down her neck. She reveled in the sensations that were traveling through her body.

"Christine, do you trust me?" asked Barnabas, kissing the corners of her mouth.

"Yes," she breathed.

His lips slid to the crevices of her throat.

"I wanted you since the moment I first met you…" whispered Barnabas, laying her beneath him as he continued his ministrations on her body.

Christine awakened at four o'clock in the morning. It was still dark outside and the fire in the fireplace was burning out. She nestled her head on Barnabas' bare chest, his muscular arm wrapped around her waist. She observed her husband's peaceful facial features as he silently snored in his sleep. Christine still felt exhilarated from her first sexual encounter, and her anxiety over her earlier doubts disappeared. He was quite gentle and sensual with her, taking his time to excite her senses before taking her body with the hunger that he suppressed since his encounter with Angelique in Martinique. Christine also found that the inevitable pain that Josephine warned her of was brief, but she still felt a little sore. After a moment, she got out of bed, put on her dressing gown, and went to the window. She looked out into the darkness and saw nothing, but heard natural sounds of wind and animals. She began thinking that perhaps this life was for her after all. So far, it wasn't so bad. Barnabas was sweet, comforting, and very tantalizing…

When she turned to look at him, she was surprised to find that he was watching her, smiling sleepily.

"I thought you were asleep," she said, beaming.

"You will find, my dear, that at times I am only resting my eyes. Were you unable to sleep?"

"No, it's not that, it's just that I had always gotten up early at the convent. We pray, meditate on the Gospels, have breakfast, and start our day."

"Hmm. I think the new Mrs. Collins will have to learn to stay in bed late," he said, laughing.

"Not too late, I hope. However, I like getting up early to see the beginning of a new day."

Still wearing her dressing gown, she climbed back into bed and cuddled with Barnabas, who kissed her on her forehead.

"Do you realize, Christine, that we may return to Collinwood on your birthday?"

"Really?" she asked.

"Of course. The question is what we shall do for your special day. Would you like to have a small, family celebration, or would you prefer it to just be us?"

Christine thought for a moment. "Since we are newly married, my dear husband, I would prefer that we enjoy being alone as much as possible. Is it selfish of me to say so?"

Barnabas smoothed her locks from her face and answered, "I don't think it's a selfish request at all. Besides, I rather have my wife to myself for a while, too." Then he sighed. "Unfortunately, I would have to return to the shipyards the day after our arrival."

"Must you really go?" she asked, pouting.

"I must, Christine. After all, I am a Collins and next in line to take over the family business. Yet, we could forestall family dinners for a time and enjoy playing chess and cards, reading novels and poetry, and…"

"And making love by the fireplace!" exclaimed Christine, giggling.

"Exactly, _ma cherie_! Making love by the fireplace," he said, laughing.

He rolled on top of his happy wife to engage in love-making until the sun finally rose.

Yet, outside of their window, a raven was perched on the ledge, watching them, with red, glowing eyes. With a sharp shrill, the ominous bird flew away into the darkness.


	16. Chapter 16

**Part III**

**Chapter 16**

1808. Nine years and six months later, Barnabas and Christine Collins' marriage turned out to be a happy and successful union. Everyone agreed that they were good together. Barnabas spoiled his wife with gifts and flowers on a weekly basis while Christine developed into a devoted and dutiful wife, completing the most important part of her duty by giving Barnabas a healthy son, whom they named Bramwell Louveaux Collins. Born in September 1798, Bramwell brought joy to his parents. Barnabas was proud of his son and Christine adored him. Josephine, now the sole housekeeper of the original estate, pledged her life to young Bramwell just as she did to the boy's mother. Christine and Josephine continued to maintain their familial relationship, and even had Bramwell to acknowledge Josephine as "Aunt Josey," although their bloodlines still remained a secret to others outside of them and Barnabas.

As for rest the Collins family, the years had more or less changed them. Joshua was still a hard man to deal with, but once children started being born into the family, his demeanor somewhat mellowed. Naomi had stopped indulging in strong drinks for the sake of her grandson, who was more of a joy for her than his mother. The family noticed that Bramwell's existence had changed her for the better, filling the void that was left by her young daughter's death. Jeremiah and Josette became proud parents of two sons: Frances Collins, who was born a month after Bramwell, and Martin Collins, who came two years afterwards. Their marriage also prospered without any looming threats to destroy their family unit. Abigail died in the beginning of the new century from a sudden stroke. Although her death was tragic, the family felt a dark cloud disintegrate from above them once Abigail was buried.

During the Lent season in 1805, Raoul Louveaux had passed away from an undisclosed ailment. Christine and Barnabas traveled to Louisiana to see to her father's estate and sold it, freeing the slaves in the process. She received her inheritance and the funds from selling the plantation in her name, as agreed upon in her marriage contract. Barnabas agreed to let Christine choose her own lawyer, in which she chose one of the Collins' family lawyers to personally handle her financial affairs without interference from her husband and father-in-law. Despite their successful marriage, Christine still had lingering doubts about Barnabas' true devotion to her. She never doubted his fidelity over the years, and he is an excellent father to Bramwell, but deep down, she knew that she wasn't the woman that he always wanted. Yet, she resolved to live with that knowledge for the rest of her life, just as he had to live with the fact that he wasn't her first choice for a husband.

One cool April evening, Christine was reading in the library when Josephine came to the door. In that familiar way of hers, Josephine lightly rapped at the door until Christine invited her in. She entered, her countenance darkened. Concerned, Christine put her book down and approached Josephine.

"Josey, what is it? You look as if you have some bad news to share."

"I do. Come to the parlor, Christine. There's someone here to see you."

"Who?"

"Just come," urged Josephine.

Quickly, Christine followed Josephine to the parlor. Once she got there, she understood immediately Josephine's mood when her eyes rested upon the familiar stranger who stood up from the sofa when Christine entered the parlor.

"Henri Dazencourt," said Christine, shocked.

Henri, now looking more masculine with a dark goatee and a mustache, bowed to Christine. "Good afternoon, Madame Collins. It's lovely to see you again after all these years."

He approached Christine and kissed her hand, which she reluctantly offered. Christine gestured for him to resume his seat on the sofa while she sat in the chair next to it.

Recovered from her shock, she asked, "Would you like some tea, monsieur?"

"No, thank you. I shall not stay long."

"Very well. Josephine, would you look in on Bramwell in the nursery and see to dinner. Monsieur Barnabas should be home at any moment." She looked at Henri afterwards.

"Of course, madam," replied Josephine.

Josephine went upstairs, giving Henri a silent, non-verbal warning with her glowing, yellow eyes, which Christine did not notice. Henri smiled at the queen of the Shapeshifters and nodded. Christine straightens herself in the chair and smiled.

"Well, monsieur, you…you changed. You look like a respectable gentleman."

"_Merci_, madam. You are as radiant as a duchess. Are you not happy to see me?"

"Well, when we last spoke, we didn't part on cordial terms," reminded Christine.

Henri leaned back on the sofa and sighed. "I know, and I would like to start afresh by apologizing for my behavior at that time. I thought about what you, your father, and my uncle said over the years, and you all were right. In this world, you can't depend on a chance at striking it rich in Jamaica. I was wrong for what I said, which drove you to marry Monsieur Barnabas..."

"I wasn't driven to marry Barnabas because of you. I married him because I felt that it was the right thing to do. Not that I wasn't fond of him, but because he was overly fond of me and promised me a good life. And he has given me such a life, monsieur. And the most precious child that any mother could ever hope for."

"Indeed. Bramwell, as you call him. Bramwell. An interesting name for a child. Not very French, but that's what happens when you marry a New Englander, I suppose."

"Are you insulting my family?"

"No, madam. I apologize for the way that came out. I suppose that I am a little bitter about losing you to him."

"It's all in the past, Henri. We all must move on with our lives."

Surprised that she called him by his given name, he smiled gently at her. "I know, and to ease your mind, Christine, I'm not here to ruin your marriage or your family. I only want to start again as friends, especially since I'm going to be living here."

"Here? In Collinsport?"

Henri nodded. "Yes. I'm going to work for Elijah Sampson, esquire. He has a remarkable reputation as a lawyer. I'm surprised that he wasn't retained by the Collins family."

"The Collinses are already swamped with lawyers, Henri. Mr. Sampson is a reputable gentleman. You will excel in your profession working for him. I wish you the best in your endeavors. What happened after the university?"

"After the university, I returned to New Orleans briefly to practice law with another law establishment."

"You said that you weren't going to return to New Orleans when you finished your education abroad," reminded Christine.

"_Oui_, but there's no other life for me except in New Orleans. When your father died, I dared not to see you, out of respect for your husband. Monsieur Raoul, well, he was… he was…"

"An overbearing, crude, malicious taskmaster and brute," finished Christine.

"You still hold that against him?"

"Wouldn't you?" she asked, raising her right eyebrow.

Henri shrugged. "Well, it is true that he was all of those things, but I remembered when you told me that you wouldn't speak ill of him when he died."

"Henri, you always knew that I never had an issue in calling a person exactly what they are and were. And I still do, which also goes for my father."

"Do you regret your marriage or child?"

Christine shook her head. "Not once. Barnabas is a good man and he loves us dearly."

Disappointed of her answer, Henri murmured, "I'm glad for you. I guessed that he has not pursued his aunt as a romantic partner then?"

Christine's eyes widened. "How did you know about that?"

"You have forgotten, my dear, that I was my uncle's law clerk. I knew all the details to your father's business with the Collinses, and your marriage contract to Monsieur Barnabas."

Christine looked him straight in the eye and replied, "Barnabas and his aunt are in the past. As a matter of fact, she has two sons by her husband, and even if Barnabas still pursued her, I doubt that she would respond to him, taking the chance that she could lose her marriage and sons in a court of law."

Henri was impressed by Christine's confidence in her husband although he doubted that Barnabas would truly forget Josette Collins. "I don't mean to make you upset, Christine. I just want you to be happy, that's all. Happy and secure."

Suddenly, the doorknob to the front door turned and Barnabas entered. When he walked into the parlor, he froze in place, surprised and angry to see a former rival sitting on his sofa.

He placed his hand on Christine's shoulder, squeezing it, and smiled down at her. "Good evening, my dear." He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. He looked up at Henri, composing his emotions, and said, "I see that an old acquaintance had come to pay his respects."

"Yes, Barnabas. I'm surprised that you remember Henri," she said, ignoring the pain from the squeeze.

"How could I forget? How have you been, Monsieur Dazencourt?"

Barnabas walked around his wife and shook hands with Henri, who was now standing. Henri gritted his teeth behind his closed lips as Barnabas gripped tightly on the young man's hand.

"I've been well, Monsieur Collins. I was just telling your lovely wife that I moved here to work as a law partner with Elijah Sampson."

"Really? How interesting! I think that you will find great success as his associate," said Barnabas.

"Yes, I believe so, too. Well, I said that I wouldn't stay long and I meant it. Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Collins," he said, forcing out the last sentence.

Christine walked Henri to the door. He kissed her hand and exited with a knowing smile to Barnabas. When Christine returned to the parlor, Barnabas began to question her.

"How long has he been here, Christine?"

Christine pulled them both a sherry, handed him a glass, and invited him to sit with her by the fire. "For a few minutes. His arrival surprised me. I didn't think that I would ever see him again."

"Didn't you?" inquired Barnabas.

Christine sighed and sipped her drink. "Barnabas, I know what you're thinking, but whatever was between me and Henri is in the past. Just like you and Josette are in the past, correct?"

"Correct." He took a swallow of the sherry. "I'm only wondering if I should be worried?"

"About what?" she asked.

"About his intentions towards you," said Barnabas.

"There's nothing to worry about, Barnabas," Christine said, finishing her sherry. "I told him that you and I are happy together with Bramwell. I will admit that he seemed a little disappointed that I was a happy wife and mother, but I don't seek to ruin my life by starting a dalliance with a former flame. You have no reason to be jealous or worried, my dear. I took my vows in front of God and our families that I would be your lawful and faithful wife until death parts us."

Feeling foolish, Barnabas said, "I apologize, Christine. I should have known better, especially after ten years of marriage."

"Come October," said Christine.

"I suppose that I felt a tinge of jealousy."

"A tinge, Barnabas? From the way you squeezed my shoulder earlier, I thought that you were going to murder me and Henri."

"I'm sorry, Christine. I admit that I was jealous and assumed the worst. When I came in the parlor, I thought that you invited Dazencourt here to…well, it doesn't matter now. The point is that I should have trusted your fidelity."

"Just as I trust yours," said Christine, slouching in the chair with an empty glass hanging from her hand. "Now can we put this ridiculous notion to an end?"

"Yes, but on one condition."

"That is?"

"If he comes back to visit, I would prefer that you have Bramwell in the parlor with you."

Christine sat up in her chair. "You really don't trust me to have a platonic visit with Henri?"

"I trust you, darling, but I don't trust him. Especially since you said yourself that he was disappointed to hear that our marriage is successful," he said, finishing his sherry.

"Whatever makes you comfortable, Barnabas, I will do. However, I think that you're wrong about Henri. He can't come between us unless I allow it. Remember when you said something similar to that years ago?"

"_Excusez-moi, _monsieur and madam. Dinner is prepared."

The announcement came from Josephine, who was standing in the room, unnoticed.

"Ah, finally! Will you bring Bramwell's dinner to him in the nursery, Josephine?"

"_Oui_, madam. I have to make sure that he eats his meals instead of playing with it, as he usually does," Josephine said, sensing the tension between husband and wife.

"Yes, but he'll appreciate them as he gets older. Aren't you coming, Barnabas?"

"Yes. I'm famished." He rose from the chair, taking his and his wife's glasses to set on the liquor tray, and escorted Christine to the dining room.

Two weeks later, in the middle of the night, Barnabas jumped up in bed, covered in cold sweat and panting profusely. He looked over at Christine, who was sound asleep next to him, and calmed down, repeating in his mind the same assurances he'd made several nights before:

_No, she wouldn't. Of course she wouldn't. She assured me that she would never do such a thing. Not with him or any other man._

Barnabas' mind raced with vivid and disturbing thoughts. He couldn't comprehend why that ever since Henri Dazencourt "desecrated" his parlor, he'd been having devastating nightmares about his beautiful and faithful wife having an illicit and dirty affair with the man. The first nightmare came hours after Henri's first visit, and disturbed by it, demanded Christine to open her door so he could search her room. Upon hearing the reason for his search, Christine ferociously chastised him and dismissed him from her presence. Almost two days passed before she spoke to him again. However, even after reasoning that the dream was spurned by his jealousy, Barnabas was plagued with more disturbing and confusing dreams, which would rouse him to wake up with mixed reactions. Not only did he dream of his wife's infidelity, but would have erotic dreams of being with Josette without interference from Jeremiah or Christine. Those dreams would arouse him greatly until he woke up with desire for her. Yet, he would wake up to the real state of his life: Josette being married to Jeremiah and being devoted to their sons while he was married to Christine, and devoted to Bramwell. Despite his desire, he was obligated to stay with his wife. Christine had proven herself to be an efficient spouse, mother, and lover who always had his household in order. Therefore, to lessen the effects of the dreams, he would either go to the library in the middle of the night to read, or arrange to spend the nights in Christine's room, whether or not they chose to sleep the whole night. Being intimate with Barnabas didn't bother Christine since she not only enjoyed intercourse with her husband, but felt that it was her sacred duty to him as his wife. However, the nights with Christine were not enough for him because he longed to be with Josette again; but, he did not entirely want to let Christine go either.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

It was now late May and life continued for the Collinses of Collinwood. As agreed, Christine would have Bramwell in her presence whenever Henri visited. The conversations between them were stagnant at first, but eventually, their talks became more relaxed. Yet, whenever Henri would try to talk about their prior relationship or hint at Barnabas' possible "love" for Josette, Christine would interrupt him and switch the subject. When he pursued the topics, she would finally remind him that Bramwell was in the room, meaning that the topics were inappropriate in her child's hearing. During one particular conversation, Christine found that she had to assert her position on one of the taboo subjects.

"..I was only thinking of you, Christine. I wouldn't tell you if there was nothing behind it."

"Henri, as proud as Barnabas is of his own reputation, he would not pursue Josette behind my back. Even if the whole shipyard was to buzz about with these rumors, I wouldn't believe them. They're just busybodies looking for trouble."

"Doesn't it bother you that your husband could abandon you and your son?"

"Mother, is Father going to abandon us for Aunt Josette?" asked Bramwell, sitting next to his mother on the sofa.

Christine caressed her son's hair. "No, _cher_, your father would never do such a thing. Monsieur Dazencourt was just misinformed by those busybodies in the village. Your father is an honorable man who loves us. What you heard were falsehoods. Right, monsieur?"

Christine glared at Henri. Knowing that he'll increase her agitation by pursuing the subject, he relented.

"I am sorry, young man. I was only telling your _maman_ to beware of those "busybodies" who would say anything to destroy your family. Don't pay attention to them."

"Yes, sir," replied the boy.

"Bramwell, why don't you find your Aunt Josey and get ready for dinner. I'm going to escort Monsieur Dazencourt to the door."

"_Oui, maman_," said Bramwell, getting off the sofa and running upstairs.

"Hmm. Wouldn't your husband disapprove of you sending him out the room. He might think that you planned it."

"Henri, you know my mood well enough by now whenever I get agitated. And you are indeed not only agitating me, but you are worrying my child. I'll see you to the door."

"He will eventually leave you, Christine. Men like him can't help themselves. They'll follow their passions to the ends of the earth if necessary. And most likely, she'll follow him."

As he was leaving, he stood outside the door and said softly, "He will reject you for her, Christine. Remember, he loved your will power, your beauty, your intellect, and even your body. But Josette, he'll always love eternally."

She unintentionally slammed the door in his face.

_I know that he doesn't love me like her, but he would never forsake me and Bramwell for Josette. Yet if those rumors are true, God help him..._

Later that evening, Barnabas and Christine went to dinner at The Great House after seeing Bramwell to bed. As they were eating with Joshua and the rest of the family, Jeremiah spoke up.

"I have news, everyone," he announced.

"Really? What is it?" asked Joshua, who was more interested in his meal than in whatever news Jeremiah had to announce.

"Josette, the boys, and I are moving to Martinique."

Everybody and everything went silent except for the forks that dropped on the china dishes.

Joshua, stunned, asked, "When did you make this decision?"

Josette answered before Jeremiah. "Last Christmas, Papa wrote to us that he was ailing and offered Jeremiah a position in managing the plantation. He insisted that his grandsons should learn the business since it would be their inheritance."

"What about the Collins' shipping industry?" asked Christine. "Surely you know that the boys will have a part in it besides Bramwell."

"With all due respect, Christine, the business will solely go to Bramwell, and my sons _will only_ have a part in it," said Jeremiah.

Christine nodded in agreement while, inwardly, Barnabas smirked at the fact.

"Besides, Frances and Martin will have a greater success in the Caribbean," continued Jeremiah.

"And so will the newest addition to our family," said Josette, gleefully.

Everyone looked at Josette.

"A new addition?" asked Barnabas, whose heart was sinking.

Jeremiah smiled, "Oh yes, Barnabas. Josette is expecting our third child."

Naomi, saddened at first, became ecstatic at the glorious news while Joshua and Christine congratulated them. All was happy about the news except Barnabas, who sat in silence, stirred by inner turmoil and rage. Christine took notice of her husband's mood. She was disturbed by his reaction, remembering what Henri warned her of earlier that afternoon.

When they arrived home, Barnabas channeled his anger and desire into sexual intercourse with Christine. Although she was not frightened by his demanding and rough performance, she was irritated that he felt the need to rip her nightgown to shreds and leave all kinds of marks and bruises on her wrists, arms, and upper torso. At five o'clock in the morning, she woke up to watch the sunrise in her room, but noticed that her husband was gone. She concluded that he retreated back to his room, so she sat on her sofa and looked out the window.

Suddenly, she heard the faint sounds of chimes. She dismissed it as her imagination in the beginning, but the sound continued. To prove to herself that it was her imagination, she slipped on her dressing gown and slippers and opened the door, expecting to hear silence. However, she heard the chimes as clearly as she heard her footsteps creak on the wooden floor. She followed it to the room that Barnabas said was formerly Sarah's bedroom. As far back as she could remember, he always kept it locked. When she first asked about the room, he told her that he couldn't bear to go back in it, keeping it locked for all times. However, this morning, the door was unlocked and slightly ajar.

Christine looked through the crack in the doorway and saw Barnabas in his dressing robe, sitting at a table with his back to the door, the candlelight illuminating his figure.

She slowly opened the door and called out, "Barnabas? Barnabas?"

The musical chimes stopped abruptly at the sound of a clack as Barnabas jumped from the chair and turned to his wife.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, angrily.

Christine's heart and feet froze. He never used that tone with her in all the years they knew each other.

"I—I heard the chimes and followed them here…"

"Get out."

"But Barnabas…this room...you told me..."

"I said get out! And don't you ever desecrate this room again with _your_ presence!"

As quick as her feet could take her, Christine ran back to her room and bolted her doors. As the sun rose, she sank down to the floor and cried against the door. She never cried over Barnabas before, and never cried around or for her father. The only tears she shed were at Bramwell's birth, and when Raoul crushed her dreams to become a nun. She also never cried when she found out about Barnabas' true connection to Josette. Why would she cry over Barnabas now? Because for nearly ten years, she was in love him.

Christine never thought that she would fall in love with Barnabas. She was determined to be a good and faithful wife to him, but to actually love him? It surprised her when she discovered that she did. To the contrary, it wasn't their wedding night that changed her mind, but the day that Bramwell was born. While Christine was supposedly asleep hours after the birth, she saw, unnoticed, Barnabas rocking the baby in her rocking chair and telling Bramwell about all the things he would do for him, buy for him, and the trips they would take together when he's old enough to take his place in the family business. He even said that Bramwell will be raised an honorable Collins man who would be admired by the villagers, his peers, and eligible young ladies from good families. Bramwell would also be a credit to his parents, especially the mother whom his father loves and hopes one day will love him in return. She realized that night, hearing his devotion to their son and her, that she _truly_ loved him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

At breakfast, Christine chose to eat in her room, having Bramwell with her. Usually, he ate in the nursery with Josephine, but she wanted Bramwell to herself. Noting her absence from the dining room table, Barnabas knew that she was still livid with him for the way he mistreated her earlier that morning. He felt guilty over his behavior, but reasoned that she would understand since it was "Sarah's" room, a sacred memorial to his murdered sister. Deciding that he would make amends to Christine later, he went straight to the shipyards, without leaving a message or saying a word to anyone. Christine was glad that Barnabas did not make any attempts at reconciliation that morning since she was still irritable and a little queasy after eating her breakfast. She thought it was the gruel, but she had to admit that she's been feeling like that since the rumors about Barnabas from Henri started several days before.

After lunch, when she finally felt better, Christine and Bramwell went to visit Naomi. Naomi was thrilled, as always, to see her grandson and to ply him with sweets against both her husband's and son's wishes. Since Josette was in the nursery with her sons, Christine sent Bramwell upstairs with a maid to see his relatives so that she could talk to Naomi privately. When the maid and child were out of sight, Naomi noticed Christine's lethargic demeanor on the sofa, rose from her chair, and sat next to her.

"My dear, are you alright? You don't look so well. I'll pour you some tea."

"No, thank you, Mother Naomi."

"Some sherry, perhaps?"

"No sherry, thank you. I already drank down enough water to last me." Christine paused for a moment. "I need to speak with you, Mother Naomi."

"I'm listening," said Naomi, placing her hand on top of Christine's hand.

"It's about Barnabas. Have you heard any strange rumors about him?"

Puzzled, Naomi answered, "Rumors? No, I haven't heard anything at all. Not even from Joshua. What kind of rumors?"

Christine fidgeted with her dress. "I...I have heard that he was pursuing Josette again."

"Oh, my dear Christine. That's absurd! Barnabas is more than dedicated to you and Bramwell."

"I don't think so. Earlier this morning, he turned on me. I had never seen him so angry, Mother Naomi. He screamed at me to get out of Sarah's room and, as he said, 'to never desecrate it again.'"

Naomi was appalled at what her daughter-in-law told her. "I can't believe it! Why would he say such a thing, especially when there's nothing in that room to desecrate."

Christine raised her right eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, after Sarah died, Joshua had all of her furniture and clothes removed and given away. It's just an empty room, Christine."

"It couldn't be, Mother Naomi. I saw him with her golden music box, sitting at her old table…"

Naomi, fearing the worst, interrupted her. "Wait! Did you say "golden music box"?"

"Yes, I heard the music faintly from my room. When I went to investigate it for myself, I followed it to Sarah's room. I understand how much he loved his sister, but I believe that he responded in the manner that he did because Josette is leaving Collinwood with her family. And now he's taking it out on me!"

Naomi got up and poured her and Christine a glass of sherry to prepare herself for what she must reveal to Christine. Although Naomi gave up liquor, she needed "liquid courage" to help her tell Christine the awful truth. At first, Christine refused the drink, but Naomi insisted that Christine take it. Reluctantly, Christine took the glass and sipped it. Naomi sat next to her, took a long sip of sherry, and looked at Christine, sympathetically.

"Christine, I can assure you that the room and that music box were not Sarah's."

Christine took another sip of sherry, anticipating what her mother-in-law has to say.

"I…I don't know how to tell you this, but..."

Christine started to feel hot. She tugged at her collar and took another sip of sherry and started to feel dizzy.

"…the room and the music box did not belong to Sarah…"

Then, she began to see spots and Naomi's voice seemed far away.

"..they belonged to Josette."

Suddenly, Christine fell forward on the floor and blacked out.

The next thing Christine realized, as she woke up, was that Naomi was sitting at her bedside in one of the guest rooms, and the doctor was packing his medical bag. She held her head, feeling a little nauseous.

"What happened?" she asked, attempting to sit up.

"Lay back, Christine. You fainted," said Naomi, propping her up a little.

"Fainted?" Christine asked, wearily. "From the sherry? I only had one glass-"

"Mrs. Collins, you didn't pass out from the sherry," said the doctor.

"Then what?" she asked, confused.

"From the child you're carrying. I estimate that you are two months along."

Christine's eyes widened. "I'm pregnant?"

"Yes, my dear," said Naomi, beaming. "Isn't that exciting news?"

"Doctor, would you excuse us, please?" asked Christine, ignoring Naomi's excitement.

"Actually, I was just leaving, but I would advise that you finish resting before you go back to your home. Good evening, ladies," said the doctor

After he left, Christine asked, "Who else knows?"

"Just you and me, but just wait until Joshua and Barnabas find out. They will be so pleased and everything will be alright."

Christine shook her head. "No, everything will not be fine, Mother Naomi. I would prefer that we keep the pregnancy between us for now."

"Why?"

"Because I remember what you revealed before I lost consciousness."

"But that doesn't matter now. Once Barnabas knows, he would put that ridiculous obsession out of his mind for good."

"I don't want him to change his mind because of the new baby, Mother Naomi. I want him to change his mind because he cares and…and…and…oh, never mind! Just promise me that you won't say a word."

"I promise," said Naomi, giving in. "At least eat something for the sake of the child. It is the dinner hour and most likely Barnabas is on his way here, if he's not here already."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," said Naomi.

It was Barnabas.

"I heard from Josette what happened. Are you alright, Christine?"

He went to the other side of the bed and took her hand. She snatched it from his hold.

"Nothing to be concerned about, Barnabas," she replied, firmly. "I was a little dizzy from the warmth and dehydration, but I'm alright. As a matter of fact, I feel well enough to have dinner with the rest of the family. That is, after I made myself presentable. Why don't you go downstairs and wait for me and your mother, darling?"

When she said "darling" in that bitter tone of hers, Barnabas knew that she was still upset with him, so he honored her wishes, not knowing of the additional information that she learned before his arrival.

Naomi shook her head after Barnabas closed the door. "I don't think it's right to withhold your pregnancy from him, Christine."

"It's alright, Mother Naomi. I'm doing what's best for me at this time. Let's prepare for dinner, shall we?"

When they arrived home, Barnabas left Bramwell in Josephine's care while he saw that his wife made it to her room. Once they got there, he helped her dress for bed, tucked her in, and kissed her on her forehead goodnight. When he left, Christine hurried out of bed and searched through her papers in her desk drawers until she found what she was looking for...

When Barnabas returned home for dinner the next evening, he brought gifts for Christine and Bramwell. For Bramwell, he bought new toys and books while he bought his wife a new night gown and dressing gown to replace the one he damaged in the "heat" of passion and roses. Bramwell was thrilled about his gifts, but Christine was less enthused. Yet, she accepted her gifts graciously and commented that she hopes for the best with the new gown. At dinner, Barnabas announced that he went over his will with his lawyer, making sure that Christine and Bramwell would be entitled to his fortune and property in case "something should befall" him. Christine raised an eyebrow, suspecting that there was something more to that announcement than he was revealing.

Later that night, Christine waited for Josephine to come to her room. She heard that familiar rap on the door and beckoned Josephine to enter.

"Ah, madam! How are you this evening?"

Christine looked up at Josephine, tears spilling from her eyelids. Josephine rushed to Christine's side and comforted her.

"It's alright, _cherie_. Tell Josey what's wrong."

"I decided to leave Barnabas," said Christine announced, choking back tears.

"What? What happened? Wasn't he pleased about the baby?" she asked, being told of the news by Christine earlier that day.

"I didn't tell him, and I wouldn't do so if my salvation depended on it."

"That's extreme to say, Christine, but I know that you wouldn't say that unless something happened. So tell me."

Christine replied, "Last night, after Barnabas put me to bed, I got up and looked for some papers. Afterwards, I got dressed and decided to go for a walk on the grounds. I know, I know, I shouldn't have been out there so late, but I couldn't rest in this stuffy room and I needed a distraction. As I was walking, I heard voices coming from the direction to the gazebo, so I carefully walked in that direction without frightening whoever were there. I realized, as I got closer, that they were voices of a man and a woman: Barnabas and Josette."

"Oh, dear," said Josephine, putting her hand to her mouth in shock.

Tears started to stream down Christine's face again. "He was trying to convince her to run away with her, saying that he would leave me and Bramwell well provided for, and that Jeremiah could still take the boys to Martinique. That she and him could start a new life together abroad, that they would be together as they should had always been. She seemed awed at what he said and couldn't say anything. Then he kissed her. Her, Josephine! Her! He kissed her and professed his "everlasting love" for her!"

Then she sobbed uncontrollably in Josephine arms. Josephine was quiet, pondering what exactly would make this man do this to her half-sister, especially since he seemed devoted to his family.

"There, there, missy. Everything is going to be fine."

Christine pulled away from Josephine's embrace and wiped her eyes. "Everything will be fine once you, Bramwell, and I have left Collinwood."

Josephine nodded. "Well, where do you plan to stay for the time being? With your Catholic friends in Boston?"

Christine got up and went through her desk drawers. She took out some papers and brought them to Josephine.

"What are these?" asked Josephine, examining them.

"They are correspondences from Mrs. Anne Louveaux."

Josephine looked at Christine. "Anne Louveaux? Who is she? Is she some kin to you?"

"Yes! She is Uncle Lasalle's widow."

"Lasalle Louveaux's widow?! How did you find out about him?"

"Five years ago, I had Mr. Dennison to track down Uncle Lasalle. Through his connections, I found out that Uncle Lasalle was actually living in Bangor with his wife, Anne, and their two children. It seems that after he and Papa had parted ways, he moved to the Colonies, married well, prospered, and died, three years after his second child's birth."

"I am thrilled to know that your uncle has prospered and had a family, but what does his family have to do with the situation with Monsieur Barnabas?"

Christine smiled deviously. "I think that we should pay the Louveauxs…an extended visit."

"Christine, you don't plan to come back to Collinwood, do you?" asked Josephine.

Christine shrugged. "Would it matter if I didn't come back?"

"Christine, he's not going to let you leave Collinwood with his son if you don't plan on returning. He and his family will ruin you if you take off like this."

"He will be with "his" Josette. What would it matter?"

Josephine sighed. "Christine, think about it. Do you really believe that Josette will leave Jeremiah for your husband, and risk losing her children? I had seen her with her husband and sons, and she loves them dearly. And as for Jeremiah, he would kill Monsieur Barnabas before she leaves Collinwood with him."

"So what are you saying?" asked Christine.

Josephine sighed again. "I'm saying that Josette isn't going anywhere with Monsieur Barnabas. And from what I heard from the other servants from The Great House, she is still packing her belongings along with her husband and children, thrilled at the idea of returning to Martinique."

"Then most likely, Barnabas will pursue her. Why should he care what happens to Bramwell and my unborn child?" demanded Christine.

"Even if your husband follows her, Joshua Collins, the man who has Collinsport in the palm of his hand, won't let you take his grandchildren away from here. Do you really want to anger him and lose your children for good?"

Christine thought about what Josephine said and answered, "You're right, Josey. I can't risk Father Joshua's anger. He's been good to me over the years and he loves Bramwell dearly, even more than his own son. I watched Father Joshua build up individuals and brought them quickly down with one word or action. I know I wouldn't be excluded from his wrath. However, I have to make Barnabas understand that he cannot take me off a shelf one night, and put me back the next night whenever he is thinking of Josette. I'm his wife and he will either treat me as his wife or free me to do his pleasure. If I don't leave, I will be humiliated before all of Collinsport. My children will suffer from this as well with people shaking their heads at them and wagging their tongues behind their backs. No, Josephine. My children and I will not be the laughing stock of Collinsport. I must leave him!"

"Then leave for a month or two, and when your anger has cooled down, then write to Monsieur Barnabas or Monsieur Joshua about your terms for coming back. Your and your children's inheritance and security are already assured, and everything belonging to your husband will be in your name anyway."

"I know all of this, Josephine."

"Then that part is settled. And Monsieur Joshua will make certain that it won't be changed."

Christine thought for a moment. "Perhaps I should enlist another in this situation..."

"Who are you talking about?" asked Josephine, curious.

Christine answered, "Henri Dazencourt, of course."

Josephine's eyes narrowed and her features froze. "What?"

"I know that Henri is still infatuated with me, but with his help, my intereests, as well as my children's, would be safe-guarded."

Josephine rose from the bed and walked to the middle of the room. Christine knew that she said something wrong, but what was wrong with including Henri Dazencourt in her corner? She rose from the bed and came behind Josephine.

Christine touched her shoulder and asked, "What's wrong with including Henri? I know that you feel that he shouldn't be around me, but couldn't you bear with him for me?"

Josephine, facing the door, answered, "No."

"But-"

"No! I forbid it!"

Shocked at Josephine's reaction, Christine replied, "It's my life and decision, Josephine! I think Henri will be a great asset to me…"

Josephine spun around and grabbed Christine's shoulders. "Are you prepared to say good-bye to your children? You will provoke the Collins family, especially Monsieur Barnabas, by involving Henri. Your future will end in misery as the fortune-teller predicted!"

"The fortune-teller? From the French Quarter?"

Josephine, astounded, said, "Have you forgotten? Don't you remember how important it was to remember her prophecy:

_…Before the tenth year of your marriage, you will have to choose from two paths that will determine your destiny: one is the path to destruction where you will ultimately regret your decisions, leading to your_ _imminent __death as a repulsive creature of the night. The other will lead you to purgatory where you will fight for what is yours and ultimately have everlasting joy and peace. But you must beware…a trusting face will try to drive a wedge between you and yours. Beware of the wild-cat beast…_

"I remember all of that, but-"

"I'm not finished. She also said that if you're going to separate from your husband, don't go to the beast or you and your children will die."

"The red-eyed beast, yes, but Henri must be part of the path that will lead to my "everlasting joy and peace.""

Josephine released Christine's shoulders. "You don't understand, do you? He's going to lead you to your imminent death!"

"How do you know that Barnabas won't lead me to my imminent death?" asked Christine, vigilant.

"Because," said Josephine, "I know he won't. Henri _will_ in fact lead you to your damnation."

Stunned in disbelief, Christine persisted in her inquiry. "How? Tell me. Tell me!"

Knowing what she must do, Josephine, not relishing the task, ushered Christine towards the table and sat across from her.

"Christine", Josephine said, "have you ever known me to lie to you?"

"No, never," answered Christine.

"Do you believe that I will ever lie to you or hurt you on purpose?"

"I don't believe you would."

"Will you trust that everything I'm about to tell you will be the honest truth?"

Christine was getting uneasy about the direction the questions were taking. "Josey, what are you saying?"

Josephine took in a breath and exhaled. "Back in Haiti, your father, as you know, worked on your mother's father's plantation as an overseer. You were told that your mother and father fell in love, married, and lived happily ever after. But that story was false. Your mother never loved your father or wanted to marry him. The reason she married Monsieur Raoul was because your grandfather gave her to him, along with the funds and slaves to start his own plantation in America, as his reward for killing her true love."

Christine couldn't believe what she was hearing. "True love? Who?"

"A man named Casper Bouchet. Madame Elyse was smitten with him and the tribe."

"What tribe?"

"My tribe. The tribe of the Shapeshifters. They possessed powers that fascinated her. Not black magic, mind you, but the powers to enter people's thoughts, to intimidate others who present themselves as evil, to…transform into other forms."

Christine came to a sudden realization. "Josephine, I remember when I was a little girl when you use to bring your shadow puppets to life without you using your hands. You made me promise to never tell Papa about that because you would get into trouble. The thought of being discovered frightened you, didn't it? Considering everything that you had to hide."

"I was afraid for myself and my mother, who was one of many that your father forced himself upon. If he knew about us, he would have killed us. My people and I had to be very careful once Casper, my Uncle Amando, and most of the others died from the bloody massacre that your father led others to commit. Even some of the slaves that were brought to New Orleans from your grandfather's plantation were Shapeshifters. We all were careful in communicating with one another in Monsieur Raoul's presence. Unfortunately, things for your mother became worse once we settled at Delacroix Park. Madame Elyse was used in the same manner as the slave women by your father. When he was tired of fighting her for her body, he would go to my mother, who would submit. I hated him enough to kill him! But I couldn't because of the tribe and my mother. When Madame Elyse became pregnant with you, _maman_, before she died of a fever, made me take an oath on the memories of the fallen tribal members to protect the unborn child, and to not help your mother become one of us."

"My mother wanted to be a Shapeshifter? Even after what my father did to them?"

"She wanted revenge for Casper and herself, but she would cause trouble for all of us. She begged my mother many times to change her into one of us. You know… Casper was a white man, too. There are whites in our tribe who gave up their "social standing" for us. Because they sympathize with us and our burdens! Yet, some wanted the power. Madame Elyse wanted Monsieur Raoul's blood! When your mother gave birth to you, she made me promise to take care of you and to make you a member of the tribe. I said yes to give her peace before she died, but I had no intentions of doing so because of your father."

"With all due respect, Josephine," said Christine, "I don't think that I would have wanted to be a part of your tribe. I was fascinated by your powers as a child, but as the years passed, I dismissed them for the Gospels. But what does Henri have to do with any of this?"

"He's one of us, Christine. He knew what happened in Haiti, and about your mother. He is the red-eyed beast who haunted your dreams."

Christine couldn't believe it. Henri! Of all people, Henri! It makes sense now. After she rejected him, it made sense that he would not take it quietly, especially as angry as he was that day in Chevalier's law office.

"Henri? But his uncle was my father's lawyer! Wouldn't he have known?! Wouldn't Papa had suspected him?!" exclaimed Christine.

"They never suspected a thing about him. Not even Monsieur Chevalier. Henri was careful around both of them. They didn't know that Chevalier's sister married a white tribesman. His parents, who survived the massacre, sent him to Louisiana to find your family upon their deaths. They remembered that Madame Elyse had wanted to be with Casper, and be part of the Shapeshifters. So in her honor, after hearing from other Shapeshifters that Madame Elyse gave birth to a daughter, they sent their offspring to be your mate."

"My mate?! I barely knew him when I returned from Ville-Marie!"

"He knew all about you from your father from those Sunday dinners and the other Shapeshifters at the house. He wanted you badly. That's why he was so persistent in having you, and why he was angry when you rejected him. That was also why I never encouraged you and Henri to be together. You are not meant for that life, Christine. You belong to this life before you," said Josephine, gesturing with her hands.

"But how would his parents and the others know about me?"

"Shapeshifters can speak to each other through their thoughts. How did you think we were efficient in your father's house?"

"Why didn't you tell me all this before?" Christine asked, bewildered and angry.

"I thought that I wouldn't have to tell you. I knew that Monsieur Raoul would never allow you to marry Henri, so I was comforted. I was also glad that you accepted Monsieur Barnabas' proposal because I knew that the farther you were from Henri, the safer and better off you were."

"But he was expected to be my husband, which is impossible because I'm a married Catholic. I can't divorce Barnabas even if I wanted to."

"Henri can't have you without my say-so. As the current queen of the tribe, I have the final decision. He blames me for not intervening between you and Monsieur Barnabas. Also, even if you are married, you can have another in the tribe, but you will have to renounce, in my presence, and in your husband's presence, that you forsake him and your children."

"That's outrageous!" exclaimed Christine. "You said that tribe members can get into people's thoughts. You also said that Henri was the red-eyed beast. He sent those dreams to me. Why would he torture me in this manner if he loves me?"

"To make you forsake Monsieur Barnabas and to prevent you from having children with him. Of course, I used my powers to intervene in his thoughts to make him stop."

"You knew the first night I had the nightmare that it was him, didn't you?"

Josephine nodded. "I warned him to stop each time."

Then another troubling thought occurred to Christine.

"Is it possible that Henri could influence Barnabas to pursue Josette? Is it possible that he got into his mind?"

"It's possible, but he can't force his will. Your husband will have to be…motivated."

Christine gave a horrified look while Josephine realized why Barnabas pursued Josette again.

"Did your husband tell you about any dreams he had?" asked Josephine.

"He told me the first time Henri visited me that he had a salacious dream about me and Henri together. Josey, what if those dreams never stopped? What if that was Henri's plan all along? Since he couldn't get me to leave Barnabas, he'll make Barnabas abandon me instead?"

"That's a possibility, missy."

Christine stood up and walked over to her window. "I know I can't trust Henri now, but Barnabas still betrayed me by allowing his dreams to influence him. He consciously came to my bed, and he intentionally withheld from me what happened between him and Josette. I had disturbing dreams before, but they didn't stop me from being his wife. I can't excuse him, Josephine. We will leave Saturday morning. I'll tell Barnabas that you and Bramwell will accompany me to Boston to stay with my friends for a visit and Mass, and return on Sunday evening. However, we will be on our way to Bangor. I will go to my lawyer tomorrow for money for us to use while we stay with my uncle's widow. The man will only think that I was using the money for the Boston visitation. No one will suspect a thing. You will help me pack Bramwell's things and mine. We'll shop for gowns for my "condition" while we're away…for a month or two, as you said before."

"You have to leave him some sort of message so that he wouldn't think that something awful happened."

"Yes," said Christine, revealing a wicked smile. "Two messages."


	19. Chapter 19

Barnabas, tired and weary, treaded the grounds towards his home on Sunday evening. He was looking forward to having a late supper with his wife. His wife. His beautiful, faithful, honorable wife. How could he have almost made the most tragic mistake of his life? To so foolishly believe that Josette still loved him. To think that his kiss would reawaken the "love" she had for him so long ago. Instead, she pushed him away and struck him hard across the same cheek that Christine struck when she found out about his true connection to Josette. On that fateful night, she scolded him, telling him that she didn't love him and never would. And that even if Angelique's magic wasn't a factor, she would have still went off with Jeremiah. Then, she left him at the gazebo, stunned, angry, frustrated, and remorseful.

He knew that he loved Christine, but he deluded himself into believing that what he felt for her was a mistake. He felt that he transferred his feelings for Josette to Christine. She was a good wife to him. Even when they had their quarrels, he still adored her. She never failed in her wifely duties to him, and would go out of her way to assist him and the family. Yet, how did he show his gratitude? By forsaking her for a woman who no longer loved him. And for those ridiculous dreams. Of course Christine would never forsake him for any man, let alone Henri Dazencourt. Of course Josette would not abandon Jeremiah and their sons. He was also going to accept raising Jeremiah's unborn child! Remarkable! Now, he had to make it up to Christine. Ever since the morning he mistreated her, he noticed that she had turned cold to him and would not relent. He knew that she was still holding a grudge against him when he banished her from Josette's room. Josette's room! He hasn't been in that room since that awful morning. He had to dismantle it. He kept that room preserved the way it was since she moved to The Great House with Jeremiah. He kept it locked and concealed for his private pleasure, even after his marriage to Christine and Bramwell's birth, holding on to a long-forgotten, ill-fated love affair that wasn't meant to be. Josette would have eventually gone to Jeremiah. Their "love" would have withered and dried out like rose petals. Now, he realized that his love, perfect or not, was always Christine.

_…Yes, perhaps a trip abroad would be adequate. Paris would be the destination. It would be a family trip. We will start afresh. I will woo Christine and make her affectionate to me again. No matter how long it takes, I must make it up to her…_

He was going through the details in his mind when he reached the door. When he entered, he hung up his cloak and laid his cane by the rack, and noticed that Christine was not waiting for him in the parlor. He searched all over the first level of the house for Christine, Josephine, and Bramwell, but couldn't find them. He concluded that everyone was upstairs, perhaps in the nursery or Christine's room. However, when he opened Christine's door, he found the room empty and dark.

When he investigated further, he found that her vanity was vacant of her perfumes, mirror, comb, brush, and other feminine accessories and items. He lit a candle as panic surged through his heart, fearing his worst nightmare coming true, and opened her closet to find it empty. Her trunk was gone as well. He looked to her desk and searched the drawers, but he found a single note, written in Christine's handwriting:

_My Dearest Barnabas,_

_Why don't you see how I redecorated Josette's room. I hope you like it, dear._

Barnabas hurried to Josette's former room and entered, lighting the candles with his, to see it vandalized. The curtains were ripped from their hinges, the bed ravaged, Josette's tables overturned, her vanity mirror smashed, and Josette's wedding gown shredded. In the midst of the chaos, Barnabas found another note that made his fears realized:

_If you want her so badly, then have her! But you will not force me and my child to watch you replace us with her and her unborn child. If you plan on leaving Collinwood, that's fine because we're leaving as well. I will contact your father in the future to settle things._

_Au revoir, my wayward husband,_

_The Only Mrs. Barnabas Collins_

"No…No!" he exclaimed, running out the room to the nursery. Bramwell's clothes were gone, but some of his toys remained. He searched Josephine's room as well and found her belongings gone.

Dejected, Barnabas slowly walked back to Christine's room. He collapsed on her bed and wept bitterly, which he hasn't done since Sarah's death. Christine's curtains were opened, allowing the moonlight to reflect off of Barnabas' back while his face was turned to the darkness. He stayed in his wife's room all night, weeping until he fell asleep.

The next morning, Barnabas didn't come down to breakfast. Ben Stokes brought his meal to his room, but Barnabas, who eventually returned to his room at dawn, didn't acknowledge Ben or the food on the table. He stood at his window, miserably and hopelessly, looking for signs of his family's return. Even seeing Josephine walking back to the house would have been a welcoming relief to him. He also didn't bother to go to the shipyards, in which he would have never done without sending word of his absence. He ate a little of his cold breakfast at two o'clock, refused soup and dinner, and eventually came out of his room. His waistcoat was undone, he didn't wear a coat or a neck cloth, but positioned himself by the fire. He stared into the flames with only his memories of the family he caused to leave him.

Later that evening, there was a knock at the door. The knock repeated itself until Ben Stokes answered the door. It was Joshua, looking grim and concerned.

"Good eve'n, Mr. Joshua," greeted Ben.

"Stokes, where is my son? Are you aware that he did not come to the shipyards today? I heard rumors that he's been sitting in this house like a hermit all day. I demand to know what's the matter with him."

"I'm over here, Father, by the fire," called Barnabas. He sounded defeated and his voice barely carried over. Joshua walked in and Ben closed the door and disappeared from the parlor.

When Joshua saw Barnabas, he couldn't believe what he saw: a shell of a man. A broken, dejected individual who looked as if he had nothing left to live for. He looked as miserable as when he lost Josette to Jeremiah.

"What's the meaning of this, Barnabas? Where are your wife and son? I heard rumors amongst the servants that Christine had left Collinsport with Bramwell and her maid. Is this true?"

"Yes," Barnabas, responded, softly.

Joshua stood in front of Barnabas, looking him straight in his face. "What did you do, Barnabas? Why would she leave and take your children?"

Barnabas looked up at his father, confused. "Children?"

Joshua sighed, and sat across from his son.

"Your mother informed me that Christine was once again with child, and that she knew for a few days now. I can estimate that she didn't tell you, or rather chose not to tell you because of whatever happened. What did happen?"

Barnabas, reeling with more guilt and remorse, explained to Joshua how he foolishly begged Josette to go away with him, leaving both of their families behind. He admitted that he kissed Josette, and heard a faint rustling in the bushes. He didn't think too much of it until this morning, realizing that Christine was there and witnessed everything that took place. Also, he confided that when Josette rejected him for the last time, he repented of his actions and sought to make amends with Christine. Barnabas noted that she was cold to him, but didn't realize that not only did she see him kiss his former fiancée, but found out that he preserved Josette's old room after all these years.

"How foolish of you, son! Didn't you care how your wife would feel about you keeping that room in memorial to Josette and your history with her? On both incidences, I wouldn't have blamed her for leaving you. But she had to have written a letter stating where she was going. Didn't she leave a letter?"

Barnabas nodded. "She wrote that she would write again to settle things between us."

"Since she's Catholic, it couldn't be a divorce, so it must be to make sure that she and the children aren't cheated out of the Collins' fortune. Well, what about a location? Surely she wrote where she was going with your family."

Barnabas shook his head.

"Well, I'm not going to sit around, twiddling my thumbs like you. We're going to bring them back to Collinwood."

"How? We don't know where she went."

"Well, she could be in Boston with her Catholic friends or some other nearby town or village. I will send out men to every city and countryside if necessary to make inquiries. When they find her, they will convince Christine to return to Collinwood on my insistence."

"Don't, Father!" exclaimed Barnabas, sitting up.

"I thought that you wanted your family back, or you wouldn't look like a morose ruffian."

"I do want them back, Father, but I would rather that she return on her own will. We will wait for her to write and I will go to her myself."

"Very well, Barnabas. Do it your way. However, let it be known that total blame would be upon your head if my grandson is kept from his family. When Christine returns, _if_ she returns, and you fail her again as a husband, your mother and I will never forgive you. And finally, keep yourself away from Josette for good this time. I don't think that Jeremiah knows about that incident between you and his wife, but if he doesn't, keep it that way. I'm sure that Josette wouldn't tell him for your sake and hers. After hearing what you confessed tonight, now I know that it's best that Jeremiah and his family leave for Martinique for good. For now, I expect you to clean yourself up and report to the shipyards tomorrow. As far as everyone is concerned, Christine went to Boston to visit her Catholic friends, and to have a brief sabbatical before she becomes far along with child. And that's how it shall be. I will see you tomorrow. Get some rest. Good night, Barnabas."

"Good night, Father."

After Joshua left, Barnabas remained by the fire, this time silently praying, for the first time since he was a child, that if his family was to return to him, he would love, honor, and cherish his wife and children until the day he dies.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 **

It was now August and Christine was four months along in her pregnancy. During their stay in Bangor, Josephine was temporarily employed by Anne Louveaux as a caretaker for her children while Christine paid for her and her family's room and board in Anne's lavish home. It wasn't as grand as Collinwood or Delacroix Park, but it was comfortable. Anne and Christine spent time in getting to know one another and sharing their life stories. Anne was a merchant's daughter who married Lasalle Louveaux when he worked for her father. When her father passed, Lasalle took over the business and made it prosper as it never did before. Anne listened to Christine's life story of going from convent to Creole society to Collinsport, only to be disappointed by a wayward husband. Anne sympathized with her new-found niece and offered her assistance in every way. While Christine was grateful, she made it clear that she would not stay long.

During the last full week of July, Christine drafted letters to Joshua, sternly addressing Barnabas' sins against her, and demanding that her father-in-law see to it that everything that was Barnabas' remained hers and her children's. She sent out the letter at the end of the week, also informing Joshua that he should meet her in Bangor in Anne's home to discuss these matters before she and the family return to Collinwood. She assumed that Barnabas has followed Josette to Martinique, and was trying to come up with stories to tell her children, to explain their father's absence.

On a hot summer day, in the middle of August, Christine and Anne were lounging on the porch while their children played on the lawn. Just then, a carriage pulled up in front of the house, which Christine recognized it as one of her father-in-law's carriages.

"So, he finally came," said Christine with a smirk. "I almost believed that Father Joshua would have sent his lawyers in his place. Well, at least he's here."

"Are you for certain that you are ready to discuss your terms with your father-in-law?" asked, Anne, showing genuine concern.

"Of course. I want to get this whole matter settle before I return back to-"

"Father!" screeched Bramwell. He ran from his cousins and jumped into his father's arms.

Father and son embraced each other tightly, showing how much they missed each other.

"Oh, Bramwell, my boy! Have you missed your father?"

"Very much, sir. Are we going home today?"

Barnabas looked up at Christine on the porch, whose surprised expression transformed into a grim one, as she stood rigid and arms folded over her bulged waistline.

"Well," he said to his son, "I'll have to speak to your mother first to plan our trip."

Barnabas walked up to the house with Bramwell. When he and the boy climbed up the steps, they stood in front of the two ladies, one who welcomed him with a smile while Christine retained her cold demeanor.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

"Barnabas," said Christine, curtly, "this is Anne Louveaux, my Uncle Lasalle's widow. Those are her children on the lawn." She pointed towards the boy and girl staring at the adults.

Barnabas regarded them and Anne. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Louveaux."

"Likewise," said Anne. "Why don't the two of you go into the parlor and talk? I'll look after the children."

"That will be fine, Anne," said Christine. "Bramwell, stay with your Aunt Anne and cousins. Your father and I will return shortly."

Bramwell clung to his father. "No! I want to stay with Father."

"Now, now, Bramwell. You mustn't contradict your mother. Stay outside with your aunt and cousins. We will return to you soon," said Barnabas.

The boy hung his head. "Alright."

Once Barnabas and Christine entered the parlor, Christine shut the doors behind her and invited Barnabas to sit in the chair in front of the sofa, as if they were meeting for the first time again. Christine's cold, blue eyes burrowed through her husband, but she was able to contain her emotions. Barnabas thought that Christine was still beautiful, even when she was angry.

"How are you, Christine?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Barnabas, thank you," she answered, severely. "And you?"

"I had suffered greatly when you and our children left. I even miss Josephine. I didn't see her outside though."

"She's completing some errands for me, Barnabas, but I'll tell her that you send your regards," she said, locking her eyes with his. "So, I see that you know about the baby since you didn't seem surprised to see me in my "delicate condition". I also see that you came in your father's place."

She folded her hands in her lap as Barnabas sat in silence although his eyes told her the answer.

"I assume that things didn't work out well between you and Josette since you didn't run off with her as planned."

"You have nothing to worry about anymore. Josette has left with her family to Martinique," said Barnabas.

"As she should," said Christine.

"She struck me on the same cheek you hit years ago," he said, with a nostalgic smile.

"Good," Christine said. "I hope you still feel it!"

Barnabas said, "I don't blame you for how you feel. It's your right after I betrayed you in the most grievous manner."

"Of course it was my right, Barnabas. Thank you for acknowledging that."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"Why didn't you tell me about the child before you left?"

Christine looked him straight in the eye and answered, "When your mother told me that the room that you treated as your sanctuary, and the music box that you seemed to revere, belonged to Josette instead of Sarah, I felt that you no longer had the right to know anything about me."

"That's when you planned to leave me? After my mother told you about the room and the music box?"

"Actually, I was _thinking_ about leaving you, but I haven't decided whether or not to do so until I saw you with Josette, telling her that you would desert me and our children for her, even saying that you would raise her unborn child as its father, which really hurt me deeply, Barnabas."

"I saw proof of your hurt in Josette's former room," said Barnabas.

Christine smirked. "Oh, yes. You know, destroying that room and that music box was—how shall I say…liberating and soothing to my soul."

After she said that, Christine watched Barnabas, waiting for him to chastise her for destroying the memorable remnants of his "precious" Josette.

"Hmmm. You don't appear angry, Barnabas. Not even a little."

"I was angrier with myself for forcing you to leave with my children."

"I _chose_ to leave with our family, Barnabas. You didn't force me to do anything. But tell me this: was it worth it to kiss her and make promises to forsake me and your children, especially Bramwell, who worships the ground you walk on?"

Barnabas said nothing, but hung his head in shame.

"I thought so, too," said Christine. "Well, since you're here, you might as well settle with me."

He looked up. "Settle with you?"

"Yes. Fortunately for you, we can't divorce because I'm a Catholic; however, we can separate. I will remain at Collinwood with my children while you go on your voyage to Martinique, and fruitlessly pursue Josette. But before you leave, I want our lawyers to make sure that everything is left to me and my children. Afterwards, you can feel free to forget us as "your little mistakes of the past"."

"I don't have any plans to go to Martinique, Christine. I don't want Josette; I want you and our children. I want all of you and Josephine to return home to Collinwood."

Christine stared at him for a few seconds, and burst into uncontrollable laughter. Seeing that Barnabas was confused by her reaction, she explained herself.

"I'm sorry, Barnabas dear, but I don't trust you or believe whatever you have to say. You see, I know that as soon as you get us back to Collinwood, you will leave us to go to Josette. And most likely try disinherit my children in the process, which your father and I will never allow."

Barnabas got up from his seat and sat next to Christine on the sofa, with pleading eyes. "No, Christine! I promise you that I would never leave you and the children. I would never try to disinherit my own flesh and blood. Not even for Josette!"

"I heard what you told her!"

Barnabas got up and walked over to the mantle where a handsome portrait of Lasalle Louveaux hanged.

"I—I don't know why I said what I said, but I didn't mean it."

Christine stretched her arms over the back of the sofa, slouching. "Why did you say it?"

"Because of those ill-begotten dreams I had, that's why!"

Christine's attention perked at the word "dreams". "What dreams?"

Barnabas answered, "Remember the night I stormed into your room? And accused you of being with Dazencourt?"

"Yes. Your mind was warped by your unreasonable jealousy."

"The dreams never stopped, Christine."

Christine sat up as straight as possible to listen.

"Ever since that time, I've been having these intense dreams about you and Dazencourt, engaging in an illicit and explicit affair. You would laugh at me as Dazencourt made love to you in front of me. Those nightmares made me despise you, but being a possessive and jealous man by nature, I would never free you to be with another man. You know me by now to know this as a fact."

Christine was irritated, but understood Barnabas' position. "As I said before, I'm a Catholic, and I accepted long ago that I could never be free of you, Barnabas. But being "a possessive and jealous man" as you say, didn't you ever have dreams of murdering Henri and raping me into submission?"

"Those are harsh ideas, Christine, but no. I dreamed instead of Josette on every other night. That drove me to want her again. Even when I lie with you, my desires for her increases. I knew that it was wrong, but the dreams seemed to control me, to drive me from you."

As she listened to Barnabas' explanations, Christine became more convinced that her suspicion of Henri was true. He not only caused her to have dreams discouraging her from marrying Barnabas in the beginning, but had also caused Barnabas to have dreams that would drive a wedge between them. She regretted ever bringing that man back into her life. He was now an immediate threat to not only her family, but herself. Henri still wanted her, and he was determined to have her by any means necessary. Even if he had to kill Barnabas to gain his reward. Henri would even harm her children if it meant gaining her. She had to put a stop to this. But first…

"It's not entirely your fault, Barnabas," Christine said, sighing.

Barnabas looked at his wife, surprised. "What?"

Christine patted the seat next to her. "Sit next to me."

He did so, but was suspicious of his wife's relenting attitude after everything they discussed.

"Know for certain, Barnabas, that your actions are not so easily forgiven. You let those dreams influence you to forget me and your children."

"I understand," he said.

"Furthermore, I claim responsibility for our marriage being in trouble because of my association with Henri Dazencourt."

"This wasn't your fault, Christine. You have no responsibility in this."

"No, Barnabas. My part in this matter is more involved than you think."

"I don't understand."

"Barnabas, I can't tell you what I mean now, but once we get back to Collinwood, I will try to explain everything."

"Christine, what—"

Christine placed her hand on Barnabas' ringed hand. "Barnabas, do you really want me back? Do you want our family back?"

He took her hands in both of his. "Yes, my darling. Very much."

"Alright. We'll come go home, and you'll know everything."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

When Barnabas, his family, and Josephine arrived at Collinwood the next evening, they were greeted by Joshua and Naomi Collins. The patriarchs of Collinwood had the family's rooms and dinner prepared for their arrival, and learned more of Christine's late uncle's family. Barnabas and Christine didn't mention the conversation they had about the dreams and Henri Dazencourt, but had mentioned that they will reconcile and start again, which pleased Barnabas' parents.

Later that night, when Christine was sure that everyone was in bed, she left her room to see if Josette's old room remained in the same state she left it in two months before. She was surprised that the door was unlocked, and using her candle, she observed that the room was turned into an unoccupied guest room with new curtains, new bed spreads, a new vanity, and was cleaned from top to bottom for new usage.

"Is the room to your satisfaction?"

Christine didn't have to turn around to know that Barnabas was behind her.

"I thought that you would be asleep," she said, turning to him.

"I couldn't sleep and decided to read in the library. I saw you going down the hallway and followed you here. Is it to your satisfaction?"

"So far, it is, but I would have to get a better look at it in the morning," said Christine.

"Of course. You should go back to bed. You need rest for the baby's sake."

"I know," said Christine, "and now that this room is just a guest room, I can sleep easily. Good night, Barnabas."

She moved past him to get to her room, and Barnabas made his way to the library downstairs to do some late-night reading.

The next morning, Barnabas and Christine had breakfast together and made light conversation over the weather, the governess that would be needed for their son, and how pleased Christine was over their new guest room. However, Barnabas had wanted to discuss Christine's so-called guilt over Henri Dazencourt. After putting Bramwell to bed, Barnabas went to Christine's room where he arranged to speak with her. When he knocked on her door, she beckoned him to enter from her rocking chair. He closed the door behind him while Christine put away the Greek version of _The Odyssey_ that she was reading. He pulled a chair next to her, sat down, and cleared his throat.

"I want to know why you believe that you are at fault concerning Henri Dazencourt," he said.

Christine caressed her belly and sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I—I—had an infatuation with him long ago, and used him as a way to get out of marrying the men Papa wanted me to marry. I didn't know that Henri would cling to me as he does now. Perhaps if I wasn't so foolish to promise myself to him, none of this would have happened."

Barnabas narrowed his eyes. "You're not telling me the truth, Christine."

"I am!"

"I want the whole truth. Don't hide anything from me if you expect me to be completely honest with you."

Christine looked into his eyes and sighed. "If I tell you the whole truth, would you promise me two things?"

"What are they?" he asked.

"First, please let Josephine stay in Collinwood and keep her secret with me. No one would understand."

"Secret? What secret?"

"Barnabas, promise me!"

"Alright. I promise that Josephine will not be dismissed from Collinwood, and her secret will be safe. Second?"

"Let me deal with Henri Dazencourt on my own terms."

"What?! What terms? What do you mean?"

"Barnabas!"

"Fine, you may do so," said he, lying. "Tell me why would you feel responsible for Henri Dazencourt being in our lives? What does he have to do with what happened between us?"

Christine rocked slowly in her chair. "After you and I became engaged, I had a very disturbing nightmare, in which I was terrorized by a demonic, wildcat-beast with red eyes. It wanted me to become one of them."

"One of who?" asked Barnabas, engrossed in his wife's explanation.

Christine shook her head. "I didn't know in the beginning, but it came to me again in another nightmare on the eve of our wedding. It menaced me more severely than before, threatening to kill my children if I went through with the wedding."

A mixture of anger and helplessness stirred in Barnabas. It was enough for him to be plagued by dreams, but to know that Christine had went through the same thing years ago disturbed him, especially since she felt the need to keep them from him.

Christine continued. "Of the two dreams, that one was the most frightening. I stayed up all night praying and lighting candles to relieve me until Josephine came to my room to prepare me for the wedding."

"That explains why you semed lethargic on our wedding day. Did the dreams come back?"

"No, they stopped. Then almost ten years later, Henri Dazencourt comes to Collinsport and you become plagued with dreams to drive you away from me."

Barnabas, realizing the connections, asked, "Are you saying that Henri Dazencourt caused you and me to have those dreams?"

She nodded, holding back her emotions. "Yes."

Barnabas was stunned and appalled that witchcraft had invaded his family again. "He is a warlock."

"No, he's something else: a Shapeshifter with incredible powers. Josephine told me that he could invade anyone's thoughts and do all kinds of-"

She started babbling and crying until Barnabas knelt at her side and clasped her hands in his.

"Christine, darling, please calm down. How does Josephine know what he can do?"

Christine composed herself and answered, "Because she could do it, too. She is like him, but she's good. She stopped him from torturing me before, Barnabas. She always protected me from him."

After a moment of silence, he said, "I don't understand all this, Christine, but I do understand the actions of a spurned suitor. He tortured you because you spurned him for me."

"More than that," she said, tears welling up in her eyes again.

"More than that?" he asked, confused. "What else could be his reason?"

"I was promised to him before I was born…"

Christine went on to tell Barnabas about the Shapeshifters, Josephine and her mother, her own parents and their marriage, and Henri's "claim" on her. Barnabas couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought that he dealt with worse when Angelique was alive, but to know that his wife's former suitor was not only supernatural, but threatening her and their children, made him want to load his pistol and hunt the man down.

"…he won't stop until he has me. You and the children are in grave danger of him, Barnabas."

"I don't care about my own life, Christine. I would sooner go to my grave than to see you or our children suffer at his hands. Did Josephine know of my dreams?"

"No. She suspected as I did that he may had influenced you to go to Josette, but we weren't sure because of your history with her."

"I understand both of your skepticisms. Can she protect you and the children from him?"

"She is the queen of the Shapeshifters. She can make him stop, but she can't stop him from going behind her back, either."

Barnabas paced the room, his mind racing with the new information he received. Finally, he stopped in front of his wife and said, "Christine, I can promise you that Josephine will remain with us for the rest of her life. Her true identity will remain our family secret, but I cannot let you deal with Dazencourt on your own terms."

"I'm sure that I can reason with him. When he would overstep his boundaries, I would correct him and he would relent."

"Overstep his boundaries?!" Barnabas exclaimed, becoming more incensed. "Had he tried to touch you inappropriately or say anything to the like?"

"He never tried to touch me in front of Bramwell, but he would try to get me to reconsider my marriage to you."

"Nevertheless, knowing what he is and what he is capable of, I rather that you did not deal with him," said Barnabas. "Have Josephine to deal with him and to do whatever she must to keep him from you and our children."

"This is my fight, Barnabas. I must make him understand."

"No! Not when you're carrying our new child. Don't receive any more visits from him or answer any of his messages until after the child is born."

"I must give an excuse, Barnabas."

"You have one: you have a new baby to tend and both of your children need your absolute attention."

"Alright, Barnabas. I'll do what you want," said Christine, reluctantly giving in.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

In January 1809, Giselle Sarah Collins was born. Although the Collins family was proud of Bramwell, they were ecstatic at Giselle's birth since she was the first girl born of the new Collins generation. Naomi was excited about providing the child with her late daughter's toys, and couldn't wait to have pretty dresses made for her (besides the ones Giselle's father would provide). Joshua's softer side came out when he held his granddaughter as he remembered his own daughter's birth, and felt that he was given another chance to be a more loving "father" to Giselle. Barnabas couldn't had been more proud than if he had given birth to the child, telling Christine that he would bolt their doors against "those ravenous wolves" who would seek out her company when the time came. Bramwell was happy to have a little sister although he really wanted a little brother. Christine told him that if God wills it, he'll have a brother next time, giving Barnabas hope that his relationship with his wife will be mended.

Six months after Giselle's birth, Barnabas Collins' household was still on edge. Josephine dedicated the majority of her time looking after Christine and the children, never leaving their side when they went out, and keeping Henri Dazencourt away with a single, glowing glare. Barnabas started to keep his pistol loaded and moved into his wife's bedroom to be close to her and Giselle. Bramwell was moved to a room next to theirs. Also, if he escorted his wife and children into Collinsport, and saw Henri Dazencourt, he would ferociously glare at him to stay away or usher his family away.

Relentlessly, Henri tried to contact Christine, but he would receive no word. He sent her flowers when he heard of Giselle's birth, and never received a thank-you note. When she left Collinwood to "visit her Catholic friends," he was annoyed and furious that she did not inform him that she was leaving Collinsport. He suspected that Josephine had something to do with that since she always had some kind of influence over her. But now, he had to work fast to have Christine. He knew the dreams worked. They had to had work! Henri didn't believe that she would leave so suddenly to visit some friends without informing him or any other of her Collinsport acquaintances. As far as everyone in Collinsport knew, the trip was planned at the spur of the moment by Barnabas, to give her a little time away to rest with Bramwell while pregnant. Of course, it would have worked well in Henri's favor if Barnabas did leave Collinsport to pursue Josette Collins in Martinique. Henri didn't care about putting them together as lovers. He just wanted Barnabas out of the way to reclaim Christine for himself. But what really caught him off guard was that Christine was pregnant when she left. Pregnant! He questioned how that could had happened when his dreams were designed to make Barnabas reject Christine. Yet, he supposed that being her husband, Barnabas still chose to engage in sexual intercourse with his wife. He thought that was a reasonable explanation. However, Henri needed to find another way to draw Christine to him and away from Barnabas. One day, he thought his problems were solved when Christine sent a message to him, inviting him to her home the next afternoon. He decided to do everything in his power to make her come to him willingly. Even if he must do so by force.

Hours after Christine sent her invitation to Henri, Barnabas was pacing with Giselle, trying to get her to sleep, while Christine brushed and braided her hair in their bedroom. After noticing that Christine was staring at herself for over five minutes, Barnabas laid the sleeping baby in her cradle and approached his wife from behind her chair.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, startling her out of her trance. "Are you alright, my dear?"

Christine took a deep breath and fumbled with her rings. "I'm fine, thank you." She sighed. "No, Barnabas, I'm not. Tomorrow, I'm going to come face-to-face with the devil himself. But I must do so to safeguard my children and myself." She looked up at Barnabas. "And you."

He began massaging her shoulders. "If you don't think you can do so, then let Josephine intervene on your behalf."

"No. I'm the one he wants, and it's up to me to be rid of him." She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, enjoying the massage.

"At least promise me that if he isn't receptive, you let Josephine deal with him."

"I promise, Barnabas."

He continued the massage while Christine continued to enjoy it.

"Earlier before dinner, Josephine and I had a long conversation about the Shapeshifters, the situation with Henri, and us," said Barnabas.

Christine pulled away from him and turned to him in her chair. "You discussed it with her? Was she angry at me for telling you about her and the Shapeshifters?"

"She was taken aback, but I assured her that her secret and she were safe with us. She's not angry with you."

"Good. Now why did you discuss us with Josephine? She knows everything, Barnabas."

"Yes, but did you know that she thought that I was the better man for you? That she wanted us together from the beginning?"

"Really? I didn't know that," she said, "but then again, she did tell me that you were the first decent White man that she met in a long time."

Barnabas laughed. "I didn't think she liked me that much, except for me offering her employment here."

Christine smiled. "Well, Josephine is much better in hiding her feelings than me."

"Christine," he said, lifting her from the chair by her hands. They were standing face-to-face, looking into each other's eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to you or our children. I don't want to lose you all again. I want…I want you to love me as I love you."

"When did you love me, Barnabas? When I left or when Josette left?"

He looked away from her, reeling from guilt. "When Abigail revealed my past with Josette, I never felt so desperate to keep anyone in Collinwood since when I begged Josette to leave Jeremiah for me long ago. I couldn't bear to live in Collinwood without you, my beautiful and intelligent soul mate."

"Barnabas, sit over here with me," she said, abruptly pulling from him, and ushering him to the table he bought for her years ago. Once they were seated across from each other, Christine began to say what was in her heart:

"Barnabas, despite the fact that we have taken up where we left off before I left you, I still have lingering doubts about you. If Josette didn't leave, and those dreams didn't happen, I would had just been minimally insecure. Yet, you have to know that I heard what you told Bramwell when he was born—please let me finish, Barnabas—I heard you tell Bramwell that you hoped that I would come to love you as you loved me. I was touched by it, and I fell in love with you then. Yet, every time I see longing looks in your eyes for Josette, I doubt your love for me. So I kept my feelings to myself."

She placed her hand over her heart. "I am _not_ Josette. I will never be Josette, and I do not wish to be her. I don't hate her since I have no cause to do so. She didn't pursue you or reciprocate your desires. Yet, you continued to pursue her anyway. When you were endanger of losing your place in Collinwood and your inheritance, you, through our fathers' business dealings, pursued me. I wasn't disillusioned about your motives. You knew this in Louisiana. You admired my beauty. You admired my personality. You admired my uniqueness from other young women. And, yes, you admired my body. You had to have me, Barnabas. Love? Not a factor at all at the time. So, my question to you is…am I indeed your soul mate, or is Josette still the apple in your eyes?"

Barnabas took her hand, looked into her eyes, and answered, "Yes, Madame Collins, you are, in fact, my soul mate, and I am deeply, truly, sorry that I was unfair and unfaithful to you. I thought only of my own self-interests, as you said. When I met you, I thought that you would had been easily enough to woo, but you showed me that you were not easily flattered. I couldn't stop pursing you because if I did, I would have to had settled with a prudish, New England heiress. I will admit that I had to have you. Yet, I did feel intrigued by you in Louisiana as I do now. I wanted you more than I ever wanted Josette."

Christine was truly taken aback. A smile slowly formed on her lips, as she took in what he just said: _I wanted you more than I wanted Josette… I wanted you more than I wanted Josette… I wanted you more than I wanted Josette…_

"And when Abigail blurted out my connections to Josette, and you wanted to leave me, I couldn't imagine being without your presence, and being doomed to loneliness and useless pining for another man's wife. You know, I'm glad that Henri sent those dreams."

Christine, confused, asked, "Why?"

Barnabas smiled sheepishly. "Those dreams and my encounter with Josette made me come to terms with my life and reality. Josette and I were never meant to be, but when you left in your "delicate condition," with Josephine and Bramwell, I knew then that it was you that I truly have come to love and always had."

Christine was touched and teary, but stifled her instinct to cry. She wasn't in the habit of crying over every sentimental thing, and wasn't going to start now.

"Another question, dear Barnabas: were you thinking of your inheritance when you tried to free me of my virginity the night before the wedding?" she asked, teasing.

He chuckled softly, wiping a rogue tear from her eyelid with his finger. "No, dear Christine. I was actually trying to find the fastenings on your dress."

They both laughed.

"We did eventually have intercourse in front of the fireplace, didn't we?" Christine asked, looking over at her blazing fireplace.

"We did. For your birthday, as I recall."

"I also recall that we did so on yours as well."

"Yes, and those were the only times that we did so. Ten years ago."

"Well, I don't see why we can't do so again tonight," she said, with a lustful gleam in her eyes.

Barnabas grinned mischievously and removed the pillows and blanket from their bed, and made a makeshift bed on the floor. Christine checked on Giselle for the final time before joining her husband, in front of the fireplace, on the floor.

As they undid each other's robes, Christine whispered, "I love you, _mon cher_."

He undid her braid and flipped her hair over her shoulders. "I love you, too, my sweet Christine."

They kissed in an embrace and lay down to engage in the dance of seduction.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

It was a late June afternoon and the weather was warm. With a pitcher of iced tea on a silver tray on the table, Christine waited nervously, but resolutely, in the parlor for Henri Dazencourt to arrive. The children were being looked after by her Naomi and Joshua, while Josephine waited near the top of the stairs. Barnabas had to go to the shipyards since Joshua was ill, but asked Ben to stay close to the house "in case of an emergency". At fifteen after one, there was a strong knock on the door. Christine stood up, straightened her gown, and answered the door.

"Good afternoon, my dear Christine," said Henri, handing her a bouquet of lilies.

"Good afternoon, Henri, and thank you," she said, laying the bouquet on the table near the stair railings. She told herself she'll throw them in the fireplace later. "Would you like a glass of iced tea?"

"Yes, please," he said, settling on the sofa. She sat in the chair to his left, pouring them both glasses.

He accepted the glass and drank. "I'm glad that you invited me to your house. I was beginning to worry that you didn't want to see me anymore, especially with the way you, Josephine, and your family avoid me like the plague in Collinsport."

Christine cleared her throat. "Henri, you know that I never had a problem with being blunt, correct?"

"Well, yes. What is it, Christine?"

"Henri, for the sake of peace, I cannot welcome you into my home after today."

Henri narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh? And I suppose that your husband is behind this, isn't he? He's possessively jealous over you. However, I guess I couldn't blame him. When the one he loved the most sailed away with her own family into the sunset, it was natural for him to finally turn to his wife."

"How dare you!"

"Why be defensive? Bramwell is notably not here in our presence to hear, which…is…odd. Where is your son?"

"In the nursery with my daughter Giselle," lied Christine. "This conversation is private, Henri."

"Hmm. How interesting," he said, grinning. "Speaking of little Giselle, you never thanked me for the pink roses I sent you in honor of her birth."

Christine burned them as well.

"Well, I apologize, Henri, but I had a family and a marriage to tend. Thank you for the bouquet. However, I am glad to say that Barnabas and I are happier than we've ever been. Josette is no longer an impediment to us; therefore, you cannot be an impediment either."

"How could you be so sure, Christine? He could any day decide to abandon you and your lovely offsprings to sail across the ocean to the beautiful, tropical Martinique."

Christine held firm. "That's not going to happen, _cher_. You see, this time, he promised that he would stay with our family, that he would protect, honor, and truly cherish us. He declared his love for me, and I declared mine."

"How gullible can you be, Christine!" exclaimed Henri. "For goodness sake! He dreamed about her and lusted after her. He even had a liaison with her, promising her his life and love, and more than willing to run away with her-"

"How did you know about his dreams, Henri? And about what happened between him and Josette before she left?"

Realizing his error, Henri quickly manufactured an excuse. "I only guessed that he would have such dreams when the servants from the Great House told me what happened. I could only imagined how hurt you were since you did leave him for two months, in the guise of visiting Boston."

"That's true, Henri. I left for two months, but I left to visit my long-lost uncle's widow and her children in Bangor. They are good people, by the way. But, Henri, no one knew what happened that night except me, Barnabas, his parents, and Josette. You knew what really happened because you were there, watching everything fall into place for your triumph, even watching me run away from the horrible scene. You set those dreams on him to make him leave me, didn't you?"

"'My triumph,' my dear?" He sat back and watched her carefully. "You know, don't you?" His eyes penetrated her thoughts, which caused Christine discomfort. "Josephine finally told you."

Although she did not say anything, the look in her eyes told him all he needed to know.

"Well, you surprised me then, Christine. I didn't know that you were so desperate to have that man in your bed. You just had to run back to him, didn't you?"

"I didn't run back to him, Henri," she said. "He came to Bangor, begging for me to return to him. He renounced Josette for me and our family. He wanted me with him, and he wanted our children."

"You know, I was surprised to find that you were pregnant since I did send him those dreams, but I guess he had to have the both of you," said Henri, trying to deepen to wound.

Yet, Christine stood her ground. "Be that as it may, Henri, but what really hurt me the most, besides Barnabas' betrayal, was the fact that you tormented me with those nightmares before I married Barnabas. You tormented me for no reason! You knew that I couldn't marry you. You were the red-eyed beast!"

Henri looked at her for a moment and laughed wickedly. "Oh, Christine, _cherie_. You really are something to behold! You're angry with me for trying to keep what was always mine."

Shocked, Christine's eyes widened. "You admit it?"

"Of course I do! It's too bad that you didn't heed my warnings, considering that you could had refused him."

"You knew the circumstances of my engagement, Henri, and I tried to make it easier on you by presenting you with an opportunity from Papa."

"An opportunity? More like a distraction to get me out of the way. You promised to marry me, Christine, and that we would be together. In the Shapeshifters' world, you can't break with your betrothed unless the rival fights you to the death!"

Christine was becoming tense and frightened as Henri continued his rant.

"You betrayed me because you lusted after Barnabas. He didn't even love you! You were just compensation for losing Josette Collins. Now, you are his whore!"

Christine jumped up, furious. "How dare you! How dare you sit in my home and call me a whore! I did what I must because I realized that I couldn't have a real life with anyone who was a lazy dreamer, who didn't consider that we had to survive on an honest living. I didn't love Barnabas either, but at least he had a profession and a realistic view on life. And you're wrong about him only wanting me for my body. He wanted me, my company, my opinions, and my thoughts. He made me one of the most respected ladies of Collinsport. He gave me Bramwell and Giselle. He had his faults, but always came running back after me. Josette was his past. He's mine now."

Henri rose from the sofa. "We would have survived together, Christine. As Shapeshifters!"

"I have no desire to be a perverse creature!"

"Un, un, un, Christine," he said, waving his finger at her. "You're not only talking about me, but also our queen, remember? Your servant and half-sister? What would she think if she heard that?"

"She would have known what I meant. She told me herself that she did not want me to become a Shapeshifter. Even if she insisted I become one, I would have never agreed to be a Shapeshifter. Not now or ever!"

Henri shrugged. "Well, it doesn't matter. As I said before, my rival would have to fight to the death for you. However, you can spare his life, and the lives of your children, by renouncing them and coming with me."

"Never," declared Christine, holding her composure.

"You were promised to me, Christine, and I came here to collect on that promise."

By this time, Christine had enough of him. "Get out of my house, Monsieur Dazencourt, and consider our friendship terminated. I don't ever want to see you again."

Now he was face-to-face with her. "Do you think that you could get rid of me so easily? You will come with me, my dear, or as I warned on the eve of your wedding, your children will die."

To Christine's horror, Henri's eyes glowed red, his teeth sharpened, and his hands formed to beastly claws. She screamed, calling for Josephine, and backing towards the stairs when Josephine herself appeared above Christine. Her eyes were glowing yellow and her teeth and hands matched Henri, but hers were more sinister in appearance.

Josephine ordered in an inhuman growl, "Get out! Leave her alone before I rip your head from your body!"

Henri backed away to the door. "Fine! But one day, you will bind us together, Josephine, and she will be mine forever!"

His continence returned to normal. He grabbed his hat, bowed slightly to Christine with a sinister smile, and left.

Christine was hysterical. She couldn't control herself and Josephine's appearance looked worse than Henri's. Josephine transformed into her normal appearance upon hearing Ben Stokes coming to the door. He entered, caring a pistol.

"Is everything alright, Josephine? I saw Mr. Daz'ncour' runnin' from the house tors' the woods, and came as quickly as I could."

Josephine was comforting Christine on the stairs. The mistress of the house was babbling quietly.

"She'll be fine, Ben, but alert Monsieur Barnabas, quickly. And the constable! I'll take Madame Christine to her room to calm her."

After Ben left, and Josephine got Christine to her room, Christine became hysterical again.

"He's going to kill my children, Josey! He's going to harm my babies and my husband!"

"As long as I got breath in my body, I'm not going to let him near your family," promised Josephine.

"You heard him. He's going to kill my family and make me marry him."

"No, _cherie_. He can't make you have him. The only way that he could have you is by you renouncing your husband and children."

"That's what he said, but-!"

"Don't worry about that. Now, I'm going to leave you alone for a moment…"

Christine caught Josephine by her arm. "Please don't leave me, Josey. Josephine, please!"

Josephine grabbed Christine's wrists and forced them to her side. "Stop it, girl! I want you to go and lay down. I'm going to get you a cup of brandy to calm you. Go, now. I'll be back shortly."

Josephine watched Christine lay down before exiting the room. Christine curled up in bed like a baby, cursing the day she met Henri Dazencourt.

Barnabas and Ben came back to Collinwood as soon as they could. Before doing so, Barnabas and Ben alerted the constable about what happened at Collinwood. The constable and his deputies searched Henri's home first, but his housekeeper reported that he never returned. A search party had formed to look for the man who was now considered a fugitive. Back at Collinwood, Barnabas found his wife sleeping in their bed. He spotted the empty glass that contained brandy on her nightstand. He knew that she most likely needed it after hearing from Josephine what _actually_ took place. He brought a chair to her bedside and sat down. He took her hands in his, caressing them and staring down at her tear-stained, compose face.

Three hours later, she finally woke up, but was still shaken. When she saw Barnabas at her side, she never been happier.

"Barnabas," she said, softly. She tried to sit up, but Barnabas stopped her.

"Rest, my sweet. You had the most harrowing day."

Christine grabbed his hands. "Did Josephine tell you?"

"Yes. She told me everything."

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to leave everything to the constable and his men. I doubt that Dazencourt will return to Collinwood."

"You don't understand, Barnabas, he will! He won't stop until he has me."

"He will be found and arrested, Christine. I promise you that no harm will come to our family and this whole travesty will be over."

Christine shook her head vehemently. "No, Barnabas. It will never be over!"

"Christine, calm down! I can assure you that Henri Dazencourt will never be a threat to neither one of us once he's caught."

"He's not an ordinary man to be caught, Barnabas, and you know that! I told you about him, and I saw him in his true form for the first time! He will murder you and the children and force me to have him!"

"Shhh," said Barnabas, holding her in his arms. "I promise you that nothing will happen to you or our family, my sweet, sweet Christine. Nothing will happen."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Two months later, Barnabas and Christine ran to Bramwell's room in the middle of the night, frightened by the horrible screams that came from the boy's room. Barnabas threw open the door and found his son curled up in a fetal position on his bed, crying uncontrollably. Christine reached him first, taking Bramwell in her arms to comfort him.

"There, there, son. Mother and Father are here," she said.

"He tried to kill me, Mother. The monster came through the window and said that he was going to eat me alive!" screamed Bramwell.

"The monster?" asked Barnabas.

"Yes, Father! The monster had red eyes and terrible teeth and-"

As Bramwell continued, Christine's heart froze and her blood ran cold. Now Henri was targeting her child with nightmares. She knew that it was too good to be true when the constable and his men gave up searching for Henri, assuring her that he's taken off to some other town or province, and wouldn't be coming back. She thought that everything was going to be alright when there were no signs of Henri for the past two months. Apparently, she assumed too soon. She squeezed Bramwell closer to her.

"He won't hurt you, _cher_. It was only a cruel dream. It will go away."

"No it won't," said Barnabas, pointing to the window. "Look."

Christine looked up at the window and gasped. Bramwell's window was broken, and there were blood stains on the glass shards as if someone, or something, had cut themselves while jumping through the glass.

"Barnabas!" shrieked Christine. "We can't stay here anymore. We have to leave Collinwood with the children!"

"I agree," said Barnabas, "but for now, I want you to take Bramwell to our room and stay there with him and Giselle. I'm going to inform Josephine and wake Ben up to board up the window until it could get fixed."

He escorted his wife and son to their room and did what he planned.

Josephine, who was unaware of what was taking place, was using her telepathy to contact another Shapeshifter, imploring the individual to come to her at once. Her concentration was broken whens he heard incessant banging at her door.

"_Oui_?" she called out.

"Josephine, open the door. Something happened tonight in Bramwell's room."

Josephine quickly put on the dressing gown Christine bought for her last birthday and opened the door.

"Monsieur, what happened to Monsieur Bramwell?"

"Bramwell was attacked!"

Josephine, horrified, asked, "Was he hurt?"

"Not physically, but he is visibly shaken. He said a beast with red eyes jumped through his window and terrorized him. I wish that it was only a dream, but the window has been damaged. Dazencourt has gone too far now."

"You're right, monsieur. I think that it would be best to leave Collinwood."

"Christine and I agree. I want you to help my family pack and stay with them as their protector. I have to see my father immediately and make the necessary arrangements."

"But monsieur, your father won't understand the circumstances…"

"I won't tell him the true circumstances, Josephine. I'll tell him that Dazencourt shot through Bramwell's window to scare us. Ben will tend to the window. Now go to Christine and the children."

"_Oui_, monsieur," she said and moved past him. In her mind, she was still calling to the Shapeshifter to come to her immediately.

The next day, Josephine and another servant from theGreat House helped Barnabas' family to pack their luggage for their emergency trip abroad. Christine and the children stayed in her room all day and visitors who came by were sent away. Josephine packed her own bags as well while still calling to the Shapeshifter. There were footmen patrolling the grounds with their pistols and rifles. By evening, the family was ready to leave Collinwood. How long? No one knew.

While telling Bramwell a story to calm him in the parlor, Josephine stopped in mid-sentence, staring blankly into space. Christine, sitting on the sofa with Giselle, peered at her half-sister/maid.

Concerned, Christine asked, "Josephine, what is it?"

Without answering, Josephine got up and opened the door. Christine was about to protest until Josephine held up her hand.

"It's alright. A friend is here to help us. I don't want any of you to be frightened when he enters," said Josephine.

"Who? What-?"

Suddenly, a brightly, colored, falcon flew into the parlor and stood next to Josephine at over six feet tall. Shrieking terribly, Bramwell ran to his mother's side, and Christine, who was standing near the fireplace, clutched her children to her body. Then, the unusual bird transformed into a human whom Christine and Josephine knew from the past and bowed at Josephine's feet, referring to her as his "sovereign queen".

"Marcel!" exclaimed Christine, recognizing her father's former house slave. "You're a Shapeshifter, too?"

"_Oui_, Madame Christine," said Marcel, slightly bowing to her.

"Josephine, how—I mean, why didn't you tell me about Marcel?"

"I told you that some of your father's former slaves were Shapeshifters. Also, you never asked. Marcel is here to help us get on the boat to safety, and he and the others are going to look for Henri."

Christine turned to Marcel. "How did you know about our issue with Henri, Marcel?"

"Madame Josephine contacted me with her mind and brought me here. However, madam, there is another matter that has to be discussed. I have to confirm to the others that what Henri told them was untrue."

Josephine looked at him. "What other matter? What did Henri tell the others?"

Marcel excused himself from Christine and pulled Josephine aside and whispered the information to her. The two Shapeshifters were going back and forth in their native tongue, but Christine knew by their tone that whatever Henri had said was serious.

Just then, Barnabas entered the house and noted the guest that was in his parlor.

"Josephine, wasn't this man Raoul Louveaux's former house slave?"

"And he's a Shapeshifter like me, Monsieur Barnabas," said Josephine. "Monsieur, I must speak with you alone. It's urgent. Marcel, stay with Madame Christine and the children."

"I will obey, Madame Josephine," said Marcel.

"Wait! Will my family be safe with him?" asked Barnabas.

"_Oui_, monsieur. Marcel will look after them, and Madame trusts him, don't you, missy?"

"Of course I trust Marcel, but why not discuss it here?" asked Christine, bewildered.

Josephine looked over at Christine. "I'll tell you once we're on the ship." She implored Barnabas with her eyes. "Please, monsieur."

Reluctantly agreeing, Barnabas and Josephine went to his study to discuss this new "urgent matter."

"What is it, Josephine? Why can't we discuss the matter in front of Christine?"

"Monsieur, Marcel just told me that Henri has told every Shapeshifter, far and wide, that your wife has chosen to be with him."

"What?!" exclaimed Barnabas, fury showing in his eyes.

"Also, he told them that I approved of his "union" with Madame Christine, and that she would be more than willing to renounce you and her children."

"Why would he spread those lies? Christine would never do such a thing, especially to her own children!"

"I know, monsieur, but the worst part about this is that Henri proclaimed that all of this will happen tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, we must leave now, as soon as possible, before he comes for her."

Barnabas asked, "Would… she really renounce us, Josephine?"

"Monsieur, you know that she would not do so. Even if she still did not get along with you or still held you at fault for what happened between you and Madame Josette, my mistress would never renounce her family."

"You're right, Josephine. I should have known better. Let's get out of here now. I'll send for Ben."

Suddenly, they heard Bramwell screaming for Christine as they left the study. Barnabas and Josephine ran to the parlor, and saw Marcel crumpled on the floor, dead. Christine was missing from the room, and poor Bramwell was crying on the sofa, holding his baby sister, who was wailing. Bramwell looked up, tearfully, and said, "Monsiuer Dazancourt took Mother!

"What happened, son?" asked Bramwell, kneeling by the child. Josephine took Giselle from Bramwell and held her to try to calm her.

Bramwell, between sobs, explained that a fly in the room landed on Marcel's shoulder. Marcel screamed in agony, fell to the floor, and never got back up. The fly changed into Henri Dazencourt, who forced Christine to go with him. Before they disappeared into thin air, Christine left her crucifix from the convent with Bramwell,showed him how to hold Giselle, and made him promise to take care of his sister, and told him to tell Barnabas and Josephine that she loved them both.

Barnabas was enraged. Josephine was more enraged than Barnabas. For Henri to snatch away a woman from her children and murder a man, or an extraordinary being, before their eyes was beyond reprehensible. It was now time for action.

"Josephine, you take the children to the Great House and stay with them. I'm going to get Ben and find my wife."

"No, monsieur. You need me to go with you."

"No, Josephine. You stay with the children. He may come back to kill them if you're not with them," said Barnabas.

"He won't come back, monsieur. He has who he wanted. He just needs your wife to renounce them and you, which she won't. I can put an end to him tonight, once and for all," said Josephine, determined.

Barnabas reluctantly gave in. "Alright, Josephine. We'll leave the children with my parents, but… what if she refuses to renounce us?"

"Monsieur, I don't want to think about what would happen-"

Suddenly, Josephine stopped in mid-sentence. Barnabas, confused, waved his hand in front of Josephine's face, but she did not acknowledge. Then, as quickly as she went into her trance, Josephine came out of it.

"He just contacted me, monsieur."

"Contacted you?" asked Barnabas, puzzled.

Josephine nodded. "He's calling me to Widow's Hill." She looked at Barnabas. "He has her there."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I suspect that he wants me to convince madam to unite with him…or join those who leapt to their deaths off the cliffs."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

The night was dark and gloomy, saving the merciful illumination of the moon and stars. The atmosphere was tense, and the fog loomed on the earth's surface. Christine, in her dark blue cloak, crouched on the ground as Henri paced in front of her. The only thoughts on her mind were those of her past, her children, Josephine, and Barnabas, her husband. Her husband. The man who unknowingly came between Henri and his plans for her. The cool wind blew at her tear-stained face and her lips trembled in fear, knowing that she was going to be dragged into a situation that was far worse than being dragged to Hell: a lifestyle of being a ravenous creature.

"Are you still crying over them?" asked Henri, bitterly.

Quietly, Christine replied, "They are my family, Henri, and you tore me away from them for your evil pleasure and against my will. And you tore me away especially from my children. A bond between husband and wife can break, but you can never understand that the bond between a mother and her children could never be severed."

"Your children?! Those brats were never meant to be. They're millstones around your neck! And as for your so-called husband, he stole you from me. He violated you and made you have those children! They are illegitimate in my eyes."

Christine laughed.

"What are you laughing about?" he asked, annoyed.

Christine answered, "After kidnapping me from my home, you insult me?"

"I was speaking of those children of yours."

"When you insult them, you insult me, Henri. Furthermore, you insulted their father. I love them all, Henri, and no matter how many of your delusional lies you spew from your mouth, I will never renounce them."

"Not even the man who chased after his own aunt?" Henri asked.

"You caused him to do it," she said, staring severely up at him. "I held him responsible for allowing the dreams to influence him."

"Which proved that he wanted her," concluded Henri.

"Because of those other dreams that you sent him of you and me engaged in a torrid affair."

"The dreams worked, didn't they?" asked Henri, smirking.

Christine glared at him. "Enough! You got what you wanted. Make me into what you are and get it over with!"

"Christine, I already explained to you that I cannot have you until you renounce your children and Barnabas."

"And I already explained to you that I will never renounce my family. You may do whatever you want to me, Henri, but I will never condemn my soul further by disowning my family."

Impatient and incensed, Henri pulled Christine off the ground and held her by her arms, digging his inhuman nails into her skin.

"I had enough of your piety, Christine. You will recognize that you belong to me and that the Collinses are no longer your concern.

He threw her back on the ground and backed away. He turned towards the woods as Christine struggled to her feet, maintaining her balance and composure.

"They should be here by now," said Henri, his back still turned to her.

"Who are you talking about?" asked Christine, wearily.

"Josephine and your husband. I called Josephine to officiate over our union. No doubt that Barnabas would come along. After all, all weddings need witnesses. I still blamed Josephine for withholding you from me ten years ago, but she will redeem herself tonight."

"Josephine will never join us together because I won't renounce Barnabas or my children. Also, do you really believe that Barnabas is going to stand idly by and watch us be "joined together" in some kind of unholy matrimony? Besides, polygamy is a sin against God and man."

"Christine, he's going to watch and die afterwards. Before that happens, you will renounce him and those bastards to his face."

"And if I don't?"

"They will all die."

"You will kill them whether or not I renounce them, Henri! I won't consent to any of this. I'd rather be dragged to the pits of Hell than to renounce my husband and children."

Henri walked up to her and enveloped her in his arms. She tried to break away, but he was too strong.

"You will give into me, Christine. We're destined to be together, and neither Barnabas nor Josephine will get in my way."

He kissed her with a suffocating force that made Christine feel as if death was looming upon her. However, in the midst of the kiss, both of them tasted a strange liquid in their mouths, and he pushed her away, both of their mouths were flowing with white, foaming liquid.

"You little trollop! You whore! You're carrying his child!"

Bewildered, Christine spat the liquid from her mouth, and wiped her lips on her sleeve. "What are you talking about?"

"In the Shapeshifters tribe, another man can't claim a pregnant woman, sealing her bond to the offspring's father. "

Now it was his turn to point an accusatory finger at her. "You planned this, didn't you? Josephine told you what to do to avoid my claim to you. You told Barnabas!"

"Barnabas doesn't know, but could you really blame me for taking Josephine's advice? After all, it's natural for a wife to desire her husband, just as it's natural for a husband to desire his wife."

"You're nothing more than a mare in heat!"

Christine boldly retorted, "I would rather be his "mare" than your abominable wife!"

He struck her, knocking her down to the ground with full force. For the first time in her life, Christine tasted her own blood, and regretted deeply that she had ever had feeling s for this monster. He bent down over her, twisted her arm back, making her cry out in agony, and picked her off the ground. He moved her to the edge of the cliff where Christine tried to dig her heels into the ground and begged for her life, but to no avail.

At the edge, she looked down at the jagged rocks and waves of water crashing into them. Henri twisted her arm further and said in her ear, "I can't believe that you would be so desperate to bed him, and that I actually wanted to join myself to an unfaithful trollop like you. Well, if you want to deny me and what I can give you, then neither I nor Barnabas will have you!"

"Dazencourt!"

Henri turned with Christine bounded to find Josephine and Barnabas on the hill, face-to-face with them. Barnabas pointed his pistol at Henri while Josephine's eyes glowed yellow.

"Let my wife go, Dazencourt."

"Ah, Collins! Welcome to what was supposed to be a wedding! I'm sorry, Josephine, but the bride was unfaithful, so I resolved to let the whore go…down to the rocks," said Henri, smiling sadistically.

Barnabas' lips tightened and he was desperate to pull the trigger.

Seeing that Barnabas was eager to end this gun fire, which could lead to Christine's death either way, Josephine stepped forward to interevene. "So, you couldn't get her to renounce her family after all, couldn't you? You should have known, Henri, that a happily married mother of two children wasn't going to give up her life for you so easliy."

"She should have! And because of you, the whore bedded him again and got herself with child!"

Barnabas and Josephine were shocked at the news, but had to deal with that later.

"She's not a whore, Henri. She's a married woman doing what is her rightful duty to her husband. Also, you know our laws on this. Now release her to her husband and go your way. You know the consequences if you don't."

"Or what? Will you destroy me?" His eyes glowed red, unnerving Barnabas, who still maintained control of his pistol.

"If I must, and you know I will. Let her go to her husband and you will live," said Josephine. "You are already in trouble for Marcel's murder. Let her go, and go to the Caribbean islands. Start afresh and find another who would have you."

Henri bared his razor-sharp teeth. Josephine bared her jagged teeth that would surely tear him to pieces. Barnabas, watching everything unravel before him, maintained his self-control while wordlessly assuring Christine that it would be all over soon.

Finally, Henri relented and released Christine to Barnabas. "Take your whorish peacock back, Collins."

Christine ran into Barnabas' arms, and the couple embraced each other tightly. Josephine approached Henri.

"I knew you were smart, Henri. Now you are free. Don't come back to Collinsport," advised Josephine.

Henri laughed wickedly. "Do you think this is over? Any of you? Because you're here, Josephine, I can't get rid of them now. However, you can't be around them all the time. Or those little bastards."

Christine and Barnabas held tightly to each ohter in fear and dread while Josephine was getting irate.

"I'll come back and have my revenge. The family of Barnabas Collins will be no more when I'm done with them." Henri looked at the couple. "Your children will be torn asunder, Barnabas will be flayed alive, and you, my pretty harlot, will be ravished before I tear your limbs from your body-"

Suddenly, Josephine multiplied herself around Henri, and transformed into the most hideous of creatures ever conceived outside of nature. They stood over six feet, covered in black fur with pointed ears, jagged, steel-like teeth, and huge, yellow eyes with no pupils or irises. Henri fell backwards on the ground, trembling, and curling up like a baby.

The creature that was Josephine, or one of its clones, looked up at Barnabas and Christine and ordered, "Get away from here! Now!"

Christine didn't want to leave, but Barnabas dragged her away anyway. As they hurried back to the Great House, they could hear blood-curling screams and the creature's shrieks and roars.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

At the Great House of Collinwood, Barnabas and Christine explained to Joshua and Naomi their own version of the events that took place. They said that Henri had shot a man who was protecting Christine and the children, kidnapped Christine, and when Henri was about to throw Christine off Widow's Hill, Henri was apprehended. He let Christine go and jumped to his death to escape a trial and execution. Joshua had wanted to send the sheriff and his men his personal congratulations in their attempted efforts in apprehending a dangerous man, but Barnabas assured him that "everything was settled and that there was no need to bring up the incidents concerning Henri Dazencourt anymore." Christine agreed with him. When asked about Josephine, Barnabas and Christine simply said that she was unpacking the children's clothes and making their rooms comfortable for them. Deep down, they, especially Christine, was unsure if Josephine would return to them.

When the family returned home, they, except Bramwell, were surprised to see Josephine setting a tray of tarts, tea, and milk for the child to enjoy in the parlor. She was clean from head to toe, her hair was neatly coiffed under her kerchief, and she looked as if she's been in the house all day.

"You all must be weary and famished. I prepared all of this for you. Enjoy! I'm going to set out Bramwell's nightshirt, monsieur and madam. Would there be anything else?"

Barnabas was speechless, but Christine replied happily, "No, that would be all, Josephine, but I'm coming with you."

"But what about your tea and tarts, madam?"

"I don't want them. I want to have a private conversation with one of my favorite people in the world, and put my baby in her cradle. Would you excuse us, Barnabas?"

"Go ahead, my dear. We shall talk later," said Barnabas, giving his wife a knowing look. She winked at him and went upstairs with Josephine.

As soon as they reached Bramwell's bedroom, Christine immediately began interrogating Josephine.

"Alright, what happened out there at Widow's Hill?"

"I took care of the situation, Christine, pure and simple."

"Did you…devour him, Josephine?"

"Do you really want to know, missy?"

Christine thought long and hard before answering. "No. I don't want to know the details."

Josephine nodded. "I thought so. You have nothing more to worry about, Christine. You and your family are completely safe."

"Would we ever see the other Shapeshifters, Josey? Do you think that they would be angry with me because of what happened to Henri?"

"Of course no," said Josephine, with assurance. "I will inform everyone of what truly happened tonight. Henri was a rebel and a danger to not only you and your family, but to the Shapeshifters. No one would avenge him. As long as they aren't a threat to you, you have nothing to worry about. I got to relieve your husband of Bramwell. The child needs his sleep, you know. You should get ready for bed and wait for your husband. I'll take my leave, that is, if that will be all for the night."

Christine smiled. "Of course."

Just as Josephine was leaving, she turned and asked, "Oh, by the way: did you keep your pregnancy from us on purpose?"

"Actually, I didn't know, but I thought that I would take the advice that you gave me in Bangor. Who knew that all I had to do was to be pregnant in order to keep Henri from me. I can't renounce my family when I'm with child. That was clever, Josey."

"I know, _cherie_, I know," said Josephine, winking before leaving.

**Epilogue**

By 1840, Barnabas and Christine Collins' family had expanded and prospered more than they imagined. Nine months after their final confrontation with Henri Dazencourt, Barnabas and Christine were surprised to welcome a set of twin boys whom they named Joshua Lasalle Collins (named in honor of the patriarch who died before the twins' birth) and Vincent Christophe Collins. Five years later, they welcomed their final offspring, Evangeline Naomi Collins (Naomi Collins died before the child was conceived). The children grew and were a credit to their parents' upbringing. The boys joined Barnabas in maintaining the family shipping and fishing business. Bramwell grew into a fine young man and married Catherine Harridge in 1832. As a wedding present, Barnabas gave the young couple his childhood home, now called the Old House, since the family had moved into the Great House after Naomi's death. Giselle shocked her family by following in her mother's forgotten footsteps in becoming a nun in the same convent that Christine lived in for several years. Young Evangeline married a lawyer from New York named Kendrick Young and moved away with him. The twins settled down and married: Joshua married Roxanne Drew, who was the sister of his cousin Quentin's wife, Samantha, and Vincent married Daphne Harridge, his sister-in-law's, Catherine, sister. Like the patriarchs before them, Barnabas and Christine doted on their grandchildren greatly, even to the point of spoiling them to their parents' dismay. Because their children, except Bramwell, had moved away from Collinwood to start their own lives, the family always made it a point to come together during the holidays, including Sister Giselle Collins, and to plan certain get-togethers to keep in touch with each other.

As the years passed, Barnabas and Christine were respected by the poor and rich alike in Collinsport. They were well-noted for their philanthropy, their dignity, and noble attributes. When they were in their sixties and eighties respectively, the happy, aging couple reflected on their lives together, finding that going down the paths that led to their union were meant to be, leading to a bond between them that they never imagined. Neither of them regretted their decisions to meet, marry, and start a family. Yes, they had good and bad times, but if they had to do it all over again, they would had most likely made the same decisions. Remembering the fortune-teller in 1797, Christine was relieved and glad to know that she chose the right path, in which she went through purgatory (dealing with her and husband's pasts) and fought her way to Heaven (her life as it is now). She not only chose the right path for her life, but chosen the path to everlasting love with Barnabas Collins, as he did with Christine Louveaux Collins.

As for Josephine, she served the Collins family for the rest of her days, giving up her powers and title to Matilda, the Louveauxs' former kitchen maid/ fellow Shapeshifter. Barnabas and Christine made their children aware of "Aunt Josey's" familial ties to their mother, but due to society's opinions and prejudices, they only acknowledged Josephine as their "blood aunt" in Collinwood. Every now and again, she would meet other Shapeshifters, but their meetings and identities would remain concealed, even from Christine. In addition, she kept from her half-sister a wooden box, hidden under a plat of the wooden floor under her bed, as her personal trophy, the severed hand of a former red-eyed beast that had once plagued her family.


End file.
